Kingdom re: Generation
by theimaginaryslimshady
Summary: There are three things of which Kalani is absolutely sure. One: Professor T - Sora, whatever - is missing. Two: The only people willing to help him find Sora is an ex-military chick and some guy with a My Little Pony poster. Three: He is irrevocably, painfully, reluctantly convinced that he is, in fact, a video game character. [next generation; thematic deconstruction]
1. Destiny's Children

The PS2 is old and dusty, a relic from an age that you will occasionally get nostalgic over when drunk or, alternatively, cringe over at midnight because you said that irritating thing that one time. It still turns on, thank god – a platform as old as this one would take _thousands_ to replace, maybe more – and it's easy to slide the disc into place and listen to it whir as, after no less than nine times pressing the power button, it finally turns green and a recognizable theme begins to play, a piano chanting Dearly Beloved as a teenage boy holding a giant key appears on the TV screen.

PLAYER ONE stares at the video game cover in their hands and wonders where their life went wrong.

Their appearance is irritatingly familiar, though there's no placing exactly how – the curve of their calf, their style of clothing, maybe the precise angles of the shadows beneath their eyes. Somehow or other, it's frustratingly beyond anyone's grasp.

The reason for this is simple. PLAYER ONE is you. The reader.

Well, kind of. PLAYER ONE is you from the future. You've met PLAYER TWO at this point, though the two of you haven't quite graduated to living together yet. Actually you kind of hate each other. This is because PLAYER TWO is a douchebag when you guys first meet. Don't worry, you're kind of a douchebag too. You get to learn to not be douchebags together. It's a wonderful life changing experience involving every tenant of the average television sitcom, complete with a catchy theme tune that plays suspiciously every time you two meet up.

The epic and kind of hilarious story of PLAYER ONE and PLAYER TWO is a story for another time, however. At the moment, PLAYER ONE is staring at a video game throwback with a mug of hot chocolate (exactly two marshmallows) set precariously on the side table just far enough away that you'll have to pause your game to reach it, in between reevaluations of your life choices.

It was a whim, really. Buying the game. It's been ages since you've played any video games, between your papers and your rent and, well, growing up. You haven't been a kid for ages. And that's what _Kingdom Hearts_ is – a game for kids, a game for that part of you that never quite grows up. You kind of miss it.

Which is why you bought into the (really obvious money-making strategy) "next generation of wielders" thing that Square Enix decided to release years after the final _Kingdom Hearts_ game was created. Even the cover is a throwback – everything drawn in dark blues and blacks, the only burst of light a heart-shaped moon that dominates the picture. Facing left is four teenagers, each with a Keyblade and a distinctive pose. Facing right is Sora, you think, but – like you – he's aged; his hair's only a couple inches long now, and he has a 10 o'clock shadow that you are uncomfortably attracted to. The whole thing is vividly KH1 cover material.

Well, it's not like it's just _Kingdom Hearts. _Every piece of media's been on a nostalgia kick lately. Season 4 of _Sherlock_. The _Ouran High School Host Club_ movie (never to be dubbed). The TF2 spinoff with Ms. Pauling and Sniper. It was only a matter of time until Square picked up on the trend. You're just happy that they hadn't made you go out and grab a whole new console, the way they used to.

There's a _click_ and you jump before you realize that you'd accidentally moved the left movey-round-sticky thing from _New Game_ to _Load Game_. You're quick to remedy your mistake; thumb hesitating over the buttons, you swallow hard you hit the _X_, dusty from lack of use.

You're actually doing it. You're _actually_ playing a KH game again.

Okay, clearly you're only going to be able to handle Beginner difficulty for now, vibrations on, time for the CGI –

Oh. Or the first cut scene. That's cool.

You set down your controller with a sense of finality, eyes riveted to the familiar layout of a first scene. It's a classroom – a series of teenagers scratching away at a test as a hawklike woman circles between the rows, occasionally snapping a ruler down on the edge of a desk. The camera zooms in on the wide grey eyes of one of the students.

PLAYER ONE prepares for the turmoil of a new Keyblade wielder.

You watch as the world logo begins to take shape on the screen.

+x+

**Destiny Islands**

He can do this.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Fuck, his pencil's snapped – hand up, hello teacher, do you have any extra number twos on hand, please and thanks?

The buttons on his jeans rattle from the force of his cell's vibrations. Fucking Nokias.

Twenty more minutes.

He can do this.

He chews on the eraser out of habit, elbows splayed awkwardly across the edges of his desk, legs spread almost halfway into the aisles. He pauses, tip of the pencil poised over one of the bubbles, before he sighs and flips to the next page, marking a tiny, disproportionate star next to the number on his answer sheet, a mark for his future self, hey, man, this question isn't filled out. He mumbles a curse under his breath. The teacher glares at him and he glances up long enough for an innocent smile before eyeing the clock.

Eighteen more minutes.

His forehead thunks dully against the desk.

Obtusely, he wishes there was some sort of spell for this. Sighing, shoving himself back up with his palms, ignoring the red mark impeaching on the dark skin above his brow – Navajo, he might say, if anybody ever asked – he thinks about it, squinting at the theta next to some sort of north-south line. It'd be easy – fira advanced is just firaga, right, so he could go cheataga and _boom_, every question done, one or two wrong so as not to arouse suspicion. He sighs, dreamy, imagining the beautiful purple glow on the paper before every question would appear before him, answered neatly, not a single star next to the numbers. He's not even sure which bubble he fills in before moving on to the next question.

Professor T would kill him, though. He winces at the thought. Just his luck to learn that magic is real from the only teacher in the whole school that had never had any sort of education himself, doesn't understand the persistent stress of letter grades. He has no idea how the professor got a job there, actually. Privately he suspects the Professor used some sort of spell.

Ten minutes on the clock.

His phone vibrates again.

He grits his teeth and focuses on the paper, actually reading the question this time before carefully drawing a triangle and putting the inverse into his calculator. Or he thinks it's the inverse he's putting in. He sure fucking _hopes_ he's supposed to be putting inverse in.

Oh fuck, it says "show your work" at the end of the problem. No calculator work, then. Ugh.

Okay, sixty degree angle, there are, what, three hundred and sixty degrees in a triangle, right? So if he subtracts that –

No, shit, there's a ninety degree angle where it connects to the x-axis. Or is it the y-axis?

Fuck it, he'll just bubble in the letter with the answer "Undefined".

He sighs, tucks his hand into his pocket, remembers his phone and jerks back so fast he bangs his elbow off his chair. Runs a hand through his hair. Comes away with some stray orange-red strands, too short to be of any real concern, although most of his hair is too _long_, flops in his eyes when he needs full vision. He shifts in his chair. Movement in his peripheral vision startles him, and he prays to the god of hormones that he isn't going to pop a random boner when Professor Hershey is right behind him – she walks past, no unexplainable surge to his groin, he's good, it's good.

Five minutes left.

"Pass your papers up," Professor Hershey says sharply once she reaches the front of the room, whirling so hard her heels crack against the tile floor. Hot air escapes him in a sigh he hadn't known he'd been holding in as he sags back, overlarge shirt bunching where his shoulder blades slouch. He'd done better on this test. A low D, maybe. Anything is better than Mom's face when he'd gotten that F on the last chapter. Anything.

That's what he thinks before he gets punched in the ear so hard he almost topples out of his seat.

He's scrambling up in a second, chest heaving, grey eyes wild as he searches the room, jolting when somebody puts a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Kalani, man, I'm really sorry," somebody apologizes, and he forces himself to relax.

Reno. Of course it was Reno.

"It's fine," Kalani mumbles, taking the paper Reno may or may not have been trying to shove into his hand. Maybe the punch had been an accident. Maybe it hadn't. Hard to tell with Reno, the malicious and the accidental, the perfect balance to keep everyone on their toes. "Just startled me."

Elena gives him a sympathetic look when she takes the two papers, but Reno's already gone back to flirting with his imposing boyfriend, Rude, and even if there's a bruise forming on Kalani's jaw there isn't technically any harm done, so he just gives her a tight smile and then turns to daydream, eyes resolutely focused on the cream of the wall next to him.

Two minutes.

He's ready for the school day to be over – has been since it began. Between Reno and Rude and Tseng who's probably been the one sending him the texts (Kalani is actually kind of fond of Tseng, if only because his aggression is never outwards) and, yeah, even Elena, he's ready to take out his frustrations with one of Professor T's extensive collection of weapons and a training dummy.

Sometimes, he thinks it's better when Shinra _is_ at school, and the most pain he risks is a black eye.

One minute, fifty seconds, thirty seconds, come on, _come on…_

He's out of his seat and half-galloping down the hallway the moment the bell rings.

He skids to a stop at his locker, hand trembling ever so slightly as he slams through his combination, locker door falling open too slow for his tastes as he chews his lip, trying to figure out what he needs for homework and what he doesn't. No Islands history, no chemistry, but he has that sketch for Art III, trigonometry – does he have trig homework? No, he was just in trig, Christ he's dumb – annotations for English, no health. He stuffs his art notebook and the short story they've been reading in Literature (the English class of choice) into his backpack before slamming the door, turning to get down the hall at a dead sprint as he arrives in Professor T's room, breathless from his rush.

His steps slow, a languid stroll now as he enters the room, waves of exhaustion pounding against him when he tries to focus on the rest of the day – he'll have to delete whatever suicide-positive bullshit Tseng texted him or Elias will search his phone and try to pretend that his tiny 9-year-old stature can beat up the bulkiest wrestler in DI High's history. Gonna have to call up Jovany before he gets home, too, see if they're having a _he_ day or a _she_ day so that he doesn't accidentally misgender them when he gets home. Christ. He should've talked to them about it this morning, but there hadn't been time, he'd slept in and they'd slept in and the whole lineage of siblings were too busy shouting each other down to focus on the gender of the day. He drops his bag into a desk seat before regarding the room around him, nose wrinkled in thought.

It's disorganized, random papers and projects and god-knows-what strung haphazardly across desks and chairs, and even though nobody but Kalani knows why, there's an array of weapons showcased on a series of shelves. Where a foreign language teacher would _get_ all these weapons, nobody is quite sure, but they're all kept sharp and dangerous, enough so that he has to board them up during the day time – but seventh period's Professor T's planning period, so it's all on display now. The only part of the room that's entirely clean is a nametag that reads _Professor Sora F. T._

Nobody actually knows what Professor T's last name is. Kalani takes a seat, sliding in and letting his eyes fall shut as his weight rests against the hard chair back, thinking, wondering. There's the rumor that he's related to old Missus Terrin, who he visits every day after school, sometimes with cookies or stories, always with a pained smile. Some people think he's from the Witness Protection Program. Showing up 2, 3 years ago, looking for a job, no family, only a few people he knew on the whole Island – there was bound to be talk. It's settled down now, though, mostly. Kalani's leg bounces, foot settled on the metal basket beneath the seat in front of him.

He is _so_ ready to shoot some stuff.

Distantly, he hears footsteps padding on the room's stained carpeting, and his eyes shoot open – wow he'd almost fallen asleep, when did that happen – feet falling to the floor as he sits up straighter in his seat. Maybe they'll get to use the Keyblade today, he hopes wildly, turning to face –

– uh, no one.

He blinks, frowns, rubs his eyes. Clearly he's had a longer day than he thought. He slouches further in his seat, glancing around furtively now, on edge for something that clings to the back of his mind, a half-formed idea amidst the silence that ticks away.

Something is wrong. Something is wrong. What's wrong? Something.

Then it hits him.

The Keyblade is missing from the display case.

He's up and preparing to run so fast that his head almost starts to spin, but he doesn't even make it out the door before something grabs him by the ankle and drags him back. Desperately he lashes out, kicking and clawing at the carpet, but to no avail. Soon he's level with the creatures scratching occult symbols into his thighs and finds himself face-to-face with glowing, horrible yellow eyes.

He had asked Professor T to tell him a ghost story once, at the beginning of his freshman year, before he knew – that it's all true, the ghosts and the demons and the shapeshifters and the werewolves that howl in the dead of night, that Professor T had seen them all and then much worse – and of all the horrible beasts in all the worlds, he'd chosen to tell Kalani about this one. The smell of sulfur, the tendrils of darkness that started to overtake your vision, and the illogical taste of metal in your mouth, like you're bleeding out from the inside.

_Heartless_.

He manages a raspy half-shout; the door has swung shut so there must be more of them. He's going to die here. Christ, he's gonna _die_.

The thought of it gives him a burst of adrenaline and he kicks out, nailing it in what must be a weak spot because it lets go and rolls away; he dashes towards the door. "Fucking – " He hisses as the knob jams, desperately shaking it in frustration. He looks up – maybe, if he can get to the weapons case – but no, that's where the Heartless are now, God there's at least four, just lying in wait because they know he has nowhere to go, that all roads lead to one destination and that destination is here.

Except – Professor T's desk – the top drawer –

_"Emergencies only_," Professor T had ordered him a thousand years ago –

Well, this is certainly a fucking emergency –

He dashes over and jerks the top drawer open, almost knocking it off its hinges as he reaches in, desperately pulling out the only item in the entire goddamn thing – an angular violet gemstone that glows when he rolls it around.

He stares blankly at it for a moment. What the _hell_?

The Heartless have started getting impatient, stalking over to him and thank _god_ Shadows are slow, because he's gonna need a second to work this out. Okay, so Professor T's been teaching him magic, probably the rock is some sort of magic thing, right, so had Professor T mentioned any magic rocks when he'd been telling Kalani about his travels way back? Let's see, rock, no, boulder, no, gems - _yes_.

Okay, so it's a summon gem. Probably. He wouldn't have any idea how to access it if it wasn't, so he's totally screwed if it's not. Praying silently to every single god he doesn't believe in, he brings the gem to his mouth and whispers _cure_, putting all the magical force behind it he can.

Immediately it starts to glow; he lets it drop to the ground as it shakes. The Heartless come to a stuttering halt, unprepared for whatever ungodly creature is about to emerge. Kalani crosses his fingers and watches. What will come out? Godzilla. It's definitely gonna be a giant lizard monster thing. That'd be badass.

The violet light of the gem begins to take a shape, and he waits patiently for the omnipotent being sure to be dragged from the ether.

This does not happen.

Instead, a very confused looking teenage girl with no weapons takes shape.

Kalani stares in surprise as the girl solidifies, tripping over her own heels as she drops to the ground and whirls to look at him. The tension of the room has stuttered to a halt at her intrusion, the Heartless silently sizing up their new foe as she blinks, eyes adjusting to the light of the room. "Uh," he says, throat dry. His mind blanks. Mayday, mayday, blue screen of death approaching, have you tried turning your Kalani off and back on?

She's staring at him. He should say something. "Hiya," he manages and then immediately wants to jump off a cliff.

"You're not Sora," the girl replies, apparently deeply perturbed by the lack of authority figure.

He leans back at the hostility in her tone. "Uh, sorry."

She ignores him completely, staring around in wonder, trying to process the scene around her. She doesn't look like an _Emergency Only_ type of weapon; though dressed entirely in black army uniform from her helmet to her combat boots, she's too gangly to look professional, with hands too large for her body and a gaunt, dark face. She's not quite Latina enough for him to pin down her exact heritage, nor is she Native enough for him to vie for her tribe, but she's clearly a mixture of the two cultures, angular face and dark green eyes clashing with her dark skin.

She turns to the Heartless that have started to gather, preparing to fight. She pauses for a moment, eyebrows raised, before tossing up her hand. One of the Heartless shrieks as some sort of metal, spiked club solidifies in her hand, and she swings it down just as the first one jumps at her, catching it on the head and throwing it into the wall where it dissolves into a bright pink heart. Kalani is only allowed a moment of confusion – didn't Professor T say the Keyblade is the only thing that can destroy Heartless? – before the room is steeped in chaos. His paths to weapons blocked, he dives under a nearby desk and waits out the inevitable bloodshed.

A few minutes later the dust seems to have settled. He peeks cautiously over the edge of the desk only to find the girl staring at him with hardened eyes, her spiked iron bat slung imposingly over her shoulder. "I do not trust you," she tells him darkly.

"Calm down there," Kalani squeaks, eyeing the sharp points that could impale him, easy. "I'm on your side!"

"Prove it."

He swallows. "I'm one of Sora's friends."

"There is no reason for me to believe that."

"I'm a Keyblade wielder!" Or a future one, anyway.

Apparently that's the wrong thing to say, because her entire face crinkles into a scowl; she steps forward and he flinches, fully prepared to be clobbered to death. Instead, she pulls off the glove on her right hand and reaches out, pressing three fingers onto his forehead, like the points of a triangle.

"Sleep," she whispers, and he sees no more.

+x+

After a dramatic CGI sequence that means he should be drenched but actually only serves to show off the animation on his hair and a bunch of incredibly confused birds, Kalani dreams that he's standing on top of a stained glass platform.

It's beautiful in an abstract sort of way, a series of broken colors coming together to form a series of pictures. Within a bunch of small circles are vague mosaics, one a duck in a blue hat and one a dog in a green one, accompanied by pictures of two humans, a petite girl with a brilliant grin and a silver-haired boy facing the opposite direction of the others. Ultimately, however, the image is dominated by a boy with a Keyblade, vaguely familiar in a way Kalani can't quite put his finger on. The kid's about 14, 15 maybe, with a hell of a lot of zippers and brown hair that sticks up in 19 different directions, easy. He stares for a moment, squinting. The hair and clothes are foreign to him, but he knows that jawline and the precise colors of those eyes, and there's only one person he knows who wields a Keyblade. It takes a moment to connect the dots, but when he does it hits him hard.

Before he can figure out _why_ there is a picture of a teenaged Professor T in his dream, a silent voice that shakes his very core begins to speak.

_I am so fucking hungover_, it groans.

Kalani jumps, head shooting up as he tries to center on where the sound is coming from. If it could even be considered a sound, that is. Sounds are generally heard out loud. "What – "

_Shut up for like, five seconds, kid_, it orders. Something in the background rustles. _Ok. Shit. Which Keyblade wielder are you?_

He blinks owlishly. "Uh, Kalani. Kalani Lagai."

_Kalani, ok, so you're – alright kid, give me a second to check the book._ A couple hundred pages flip all at once. _You're one of the air wielders! Well, that makes my job easy._

"What."

_Nothing important. Alright, step one: use your movey-round-sticky-thing on the left part of your game controller to move_.

"My – you mean the analog stick?" He stares at the darkness surrounding him, the only possible place the voice could originate.

There is a long pause.

_Maybe._

This is a weirdass dream.

Kalani rubs his eyes in with the heel of his hand. "What sort of console are we talking about here?" he asks patiently. It's lucky Gabriel had decided that he wanted every single video game console on the Islands for his birthday last year or Kalani would have no idea what's going on. He's not quite sure why he's dreaming about video games in the first place actually, but he isn't exactly an expert on dreams and their repercussions.

_A Playstation 2_, the voice admits, sounding almost guilty.

"Then it's the analog stick."

_Alright, use the fucking analog stick to move then. You know, we wouldn't even have to go through this if you'd played the game on Proud Mode. Wimp_.

"Mmhmm." He patiently steps forward until he's covered in a radiant beam of light, throwing the shadows of his sharp features into relief. "Now what do you want me to do?" he adds, the image of tranquility. He has 5 younger siblings. He knows how to deal with people that are only half-aware of what they're saying.

_Nice cheekbones_, the voice comments distractedly, which is admittedly not something any of his family has ever told him before.

"Thank you," he replies, polite. There is a moment of silence. "What am I supposed to do now…?"

_Oh! Yeah._ They clear their soundless throat. Around Kalani, three platforms raise from the ground, each with a unique weapon – one with a staff, one a sword, and one a shield. _Choose your power wisely, as it will determine much of your journey ahead._

"Great. Thanks." He pauses and then moves uncertainly towards the sword.

**JUMP USING THE O BUTTON**

Well alright then. He hops up onto the platform – made of stone rather than glass – and grasps the sword at its hilt, holding it carefully in his hands, testing its weight. It has a nice balance and a reasonably wide range.

_The power of the warrior_, something offers, a different voice than the one that whispers from the void above him. It's sweeter – more convincing, searching out a deal rather than a path. _Invincible courage._

_ A sword of terrible destruction._

He leaves the sword where he found it.

The shield isn't balanced as well; he almost falls off the podium holding it. _The power of the guardian_, it offers, kinder somehow than the sword had sounded, friendlier than it is persuasive. _Kindness to aid friends._

_ A shield to repel all_.

He leaves the shield where he found it.

One weapon left. Like the sword it's well balanced, but it clearly isn't meant for hand to hand combat; the grip slides between his fingers, and the end isn't particularly threatening. It bears the same three-circle symbol spray painted to Professor T's wall, the one imprinted on all the weapons. _The power of the mystic_, the voice says, and this one is authoritative, validated, as though it doesn't even care whether Kalani chooses it or not. _Inner strength._

_ A staff of wonder and ruin_.

He pauses.

No courage. No friends – maybe in another life but not here, not now. But inner strength?

He has that.

"This is the one I choose."

_What?_ The still-half-drunk voice above him jolts. Kalani resists the urge to roll his eyes. _Oh, okay. Um. Cool_. The staff disappears from his hand in a gust of wind. _Alright. Now – give one up_.

"Wait – " Kalani hisses as he jumps down from the platform, a shock of vibrations rushing through his body, blood draining from his head. He blinks until he can see again, the bright yellow spots disappearing as his body calms down. "What do you mean, give one up?"

_Power comes at a price_, the voice scolds, more serious now than it'd been for the whole conversation beforehand. _If you're going to gain the power of mass destruction in one form, you have to be willing to give it up in another_.

Kalani winces and finally steps forward, surveying the other two options.

_Terrible destruction_, he thinks, and then _repel all_.

He drives enough people away just by _existing._ He doesn't need to get rid of the only thing standing between him and total solitude.

Firmly, he walks towards the sword. It glints in an imaginary light, the three-circle insignia so loudly present on both the staff and the shield minimized, set aside in favor of brute force and destruction that he wants no part of. "This one," he shouts up at the voice as he hops onto the dias, reaching out to touch the blade. It's sharper than he'd thought – a drop of blood falls from his finger to the ground and he hisses, drawing back.

A full twenty seconds later, the voice calls down, _Be careful, that blade's sharp._

Kalani applauds sarcastically. Perhaps in retaliation, the sword disappearing in a burst of flame is immediately followed by the beautiful artistry beneath him breaking into a million fragments. So it goes.

Impossibly, he lands on his feet. The platform is similar but the picture beneath him is different; though the color had been blue before, it's a rosy pink here. In the middle is a picture of himself with his arms outstretched, a Keyblade dangling from one hand and a crown clenched in the other. Like with the Professor, there are four circles surrounding his head, each with a different face. One is very clearly the girl he had met just before falling asleep; the one next to her, Jovany. On the other side of his head is two forms that he doesn't recognize – a girl with cascading blonde hair and a boy with soft features and a happy glint in his eyes.

_Use your weapon to protect yourself_, the voice commands. It doesn't sound hungover anymore. It sounds powerful. _There are many dangers you will face along your journey._

"What – _holy fucking _– " Kalani jumps back as one of the Heartless from earlier takes shape, its angular antennae twitching as it stares at him with beady yellow eyes. He doesn't know how but the staff he'd chosen reappears in his trembling hands. He grips it tight, holding it outstretched at the monster walking towards him.

**PRESS X TO ATTACK**

He stumbles back and, in doing so, regains the balance he'd lost from his fifty thousand foot fall. Okay, Sora had taught him this – assess the situation, reasonably small foe – jab, slice and –

Wow.

That was easier than he thought it'd be.

_You will be tested many times throughout your journey._

The floor beneath him begins to vibrate. "What – "

_But fear not. You will not be alone_.

The floor disappears from beneath him, shuddering into the shadows, the voice echoing after him, sincere and terrifying all at once.

_You are never alone_.

The final platform is totally blank – a slab of concrete with no discernible pattern anywhere. When he looks closer he can see color peeking through the cracks, like there had been a picture there at one point but it had been covered up. "Alright, what goes on now?"

_You save_, the voice says simply, and a bright green circle shimmers into existence.

**SAVE BY STANDING ON THE CIRCLE AND PRESSING THE TRIANGLE BUTTON.**

**EVERYTHING NOT SAVED WILL BE LOST.**

Kalani steps on top of the green circle, eyeing the floor beneath him hesitantly. After a moment he starts to feel – rejuvenated, almost. Not stronger, but more fulfilled. He stands there for just a moment, breathing in the feeling of being at full potential.

[PLAYER ONE saves their game. "Yeah," you whisper, staring triumphantly at your screen. "_Hell_ yeah. _Hell fucking yeah_."]

Kalani lets his breath out and steps away from the green circle; immediately, it shudders back out of existence, leaving him staring blankly.

_That usually doesn't happen_, the invisible voice offers.

A giant monster falls from the sky.

_Neither does that_.

"Wow thank you that is so very helpful," Kalani manages through grit teeth, calling the staff to his hand as he stares determinedly at the towering monster before him.

_No, you don't understand. You're supposed to have another platform, _the voice hisses, like it's in pain. _Something's blocking you._

"So do I fight it or not?" Kalani calls up, watching as the giant grey beast looks straight into his eyes, mouth sown together. Its feet are pointed at the ends – the only vulnerable spot Kalani can see – and thorns of black and white that disappear after only moments wrap themselves around its body. Sora had told Kalani about these monsters, too, but he still doesn't expect the cold shudder that runs through his body, like he's been drenched with frozen air, setting his teeth on edge and curling his toes.

_No – it's too soon - !_

The Nobody roars and attack him and the voice goes dead, the silence almost terrifying compared to the consistent noise in his ear before. Kalani dives instinctively before coming up and thrusting, too late to stop his instincts, and the battle finally begins.

It's a flurry of movement more than it is a real battle – ducking at the right times, twisting in and out of the long attacks sent at him. Like he'd thought, the staff wasn't made for melee combat; it's a magic weapon through and through, made for spell casting rather than blunt force. He can't cast anything, though – like the voice said, something's blocking him.

So he does his best. Swing, jab, slice, rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. He may not have as much strength as the monster before him, but there's one thing Professor T's hardwired into his system that he has going for him: _endurance_.

The final swing is a regular jab but apparently he put something special behind it because the monster staggers, gasping for air. Its heel hits the edge of the platform and abruptly – terrifiedly – it falls off, shrieking loud enough Kalani' eardrums pop. The whole platform starts to shudder at the monster's departure and Kalani falls to his ass, eyes wide, mouth a perfect _O_ of surprise. Something tugs at his elbow and he turns to look before immediately jerking away at the tendril of darkness wrapping from his forearm to his shoulder. It's no use protesting; the black shadow is already weaving its way around his torso – he's falling into it, embracing it –

_"Kalani"_, a voice says –

And then he's gasping himself awake, shooting up so fast that he knocks heads with Jovany.

"_Fucking_ – " they begin, and then go off on a multiple-minute tirade in Navajo, only half of which he bothers to listen to. The room is hazy in his half-sleep; his Pyro poster looks like a very confused red blob and the Spock and Han Solo figurines on his dresser blur so much they look arranged to be making out. (Admittedly, this may have been due to Addie's meddling more than his exhaustion. She's kind of a weird kid.) Even Jovany is just an angry slur of paintbrush on background until he starts to focus, their static braid of black hair and pissed blue eyes coming into clarity.

_Braided hair._ So it's a _she_ day, then.

" – you _goddamn piece of shit_!" she finishes, dovetailing spectacularly into English again.

"Whatever you just said, I'm deeply offended," Kalani manages matter-of-factly as he comes back down to earth. Whatever he'd been dreaming of, it's already faded but for one, simple phrase.

_You are not alone_.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Jovany scowls. To be fair, the bump on her forehead _does_ look rather painful – but then, Jovany has been highly inclined to shout at Kalani lately. Puberty does horrible things to good people. "You're a jerk," she grumbles, sitting down next to him on the bed. "And since you slept through dinner, I brought you up a plate."

"I slept through dinner?" he groans, reaching out for the spaghetti steaming on the side table. He's never been entirely comfortable with eating pure meat, but he's totally fine with it in sauces and other small portions.

"Yeah, Manami said you fell asleep after school."

"Manami?"

"The girl who carried you home."

Kalani chokes on the forkful of noodles he'd just shoved into his mouth. "_Girl that carried me home?_" he manages, voice raspy, throat burning from his impromptu hack-swallow.

"Like you were her bride," Jovany replies solemnly. "Speaking of – if you haven't already, I dib asking her out first."

Kalani stares blankly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes even while his mind races. Manami could only be the name of the girl from the summon gem – but aren't those supposed to disappear after a battle? But then she hadn't disappeared in the time it took to knock him out, either. And she'd said she didn't trust him – why did she take him home instead of taking him in for questioning or something? And what was up with her weird weapon? How can she kill the Heartless? How much does she know?

Actually, scratch all that – _how did she know where he lives_?

"If you don't snap out of it, I'm eating your spaghetti," Jovany says matter-of-factly. Kalani jumps back into the world of the conscious just in time to snatch his plate away from her hungry gaze.

"Okay, you've had your fun, now get out of my room," he orders in his best older-brother voice.

She snorts. "_Make_ me."

"Get out!"

"Why? You gonna invite Manami into your room and get up to some – "

"_Jove!_"

She grins and stands, curtsying mockingly with the edges of her jeans before she flounces out of the room, tossing one last "Kinky, Kalani" over her shoulder. He shakes his head as he finishes up on his noodles, discarding the plate back on the table and glancing at the digital clock next to it. _10:43_. No wonder Jovany got worried enough to come check on him.

Even though he's slept for 7 hours, he's impossibly tired – maybe fatigued from his imaginary fight, maybe from the discussion with Jovany (who is always rough to handle). Who knows?

He lets his eyes fall shut and slowly, slowly, drifts off to sleep.

+x+

PLAYER ONE is having a bit of a dilemma.

Hot chocolate gone cold next to you, you search furiously through the start screen now available to you, scrolling through the abilities, then the MP, then going back to the regular screen and scrolling to the 'magic' choice one last time before you give in and move to the bed, furthering the storyline.

"But he used Cure in the cut scene!" you shout, almost hysterically. It _has_ to be somewhere in your attacks or abilities!

However, Cure is a useful spell and as such isn't yet available to people who didn't choose Proud Mode.

Wimp.

+x+

Kalani wakes up to the realization that he forgot to do his English homework.

Of course, he also forgot his Art sketch, but Professor Grem adores him so he should be able to get an extension if he lies his way through it. But Professor Randolph? _Hates_ him. And he's forgotten his annotations for the last week, so if he forgets it one more day…

He winces. He doesn't even _want_ to know what Mom's going to do to him.

Luckily he doesn't have to go around and wake his siblings for once; even Gabriel is up, carefully preparing his Grade 2 Workbook for his kindly old teacher. "Comb your hair," Kalani orders Elias as he breezes towards the cereal cabinet, ignoring the groan he gets in response. Mom is probably still asleep upstairs. She usually sleeps in until about 11:00 – a result of her staying up until 4:00 in the morning working. Kalani pours himself some Mickey Mouse™ cereal (that three-circle marshmallow looks vaguely familiar – maybe a dream he had once?), accidentally grabs the tea instead of milk three times before he gives up and pours it in, and takes a seat at the table, where it takes him all of two seconds to notice the twins. "Abbie, go change your clothes. You know you guys aren't allowed to wear the same thing to school."

"Aw, Kalani!" Adriel complains in her identical twin's defense, but Kalani only has to give them a narrow-eyed look before they both retreat, grumbling, to their room to choose non-identical outfits – or, more likely, to choose a different pair of identical outfits and try to get it past him. He eyes their lavishly decorated door thoughtfully as they slam it shut; they've been going through a stage lately – he'll have to stop in on them after school today, see what's up.

Jovany finally trods downstairs; though they're fully dressed, their hair is neither styled nor tucked beneath a hat. "He day or she day?" Kalani asks, spooning his food into his mouth, accidentally dripping sweet tea on his jeans. Oh well.

"He day," he replies, looking tired enough to break somebody in half, and Kalani makes a mental note to tell the twins even as Elias and Gabriel both nod.

It's lucky for them that Jovany's willing to be addressed by the same pronoun for 24 hours at a time; he _had _preferred to be addressed by both he and she pronouns in the same spaces of time, but that had gotten confusing after a while, so he'd eventually come to the decision to just tell everyone what gender he is and let them call him that until it changes – or, since it tends to be a morning ritual, when it stays the same, at times. Sometimes he switches genders in the middle of the day and has to go and shout it at them individually after school, but for the most part it seems to operate on a surprisingly consistent schedule.

Anyway, he looks like shit this morning, but he _always_ looks like shit in the morning so that isn't surprising. "Don't forget your algebra project," Kalani tells him.

Jovany stares. "You're eating your cereal with sweet tea."

"This has what to do with math?"

Jovany shakes himself out of his trance. "My algebra project is none of your fucking business," he grumbles, burying himself in the waffles he's tucked in the toaster, staring resolutely at the timer on the corner of it.

Kalani turns in his seat to frown maturely at him. "Jovany, this project is worth a lot of your grade. If you don't have it done – "

"Yeah, thanks, _Dad_," Jovany snarls, which is below the belt, even for him.

Kalani pours the rest of his cereal down the sink and walks out without another word. After he makes it to his room, he laments the wasted tea, but comes to the inevitable decision that the dramatic exit – and the chance he's finally made Jovany _think_ about what he says before he speaks – was worth it. It's not like there's anybody else to imprint life lessons on his younger siblings, and if there _was_ anyone else, it's not like they'd be willing.

He throws his backpack over his shoulder and scatters over, feet padding softly on the carpet as he dawdles to look at paintings, dreading the inevitable encounter. After at least ten minutes of wasting time, he reluctantly slugs forward, poking the door so he has a sliver of space, peering cautiously into the room at the end of the hall.

It's decorated beautifully – a room made entirely in shades of red but for the violet drapes that frame the floor-to-ceiling window – with the vivid impression of an entire world made solely of velvet. The room is dominated by a statue of Grandpa in the center, a gift from Mom's Blessingway, back when she'd first been pregnant with him. A tall figure shifts in her sleep, too tiny for the two-person bed she sleeps in that breaks Kalani's heart every time he sees it.

"Mom," he says, voice a dreadful whisper, low and unusually throaty.

"Mmmm," she hums, flopping idly to face him with his siblings' blue eyes.

"We're going to school, okay?"

"Okay," she slurs, half asleep.

"Don't forget your meeting this afternoon, okay?"

"I won't."

"Alright." He swallows – opens his mouth – closes it again. "I'll talk to you this afternoon." He closes her door; within moments, she is snoring softly again, peacefully dreaming of –

Well, probably of his father, to be honest, but that isn't really important.

He tromps down the stairs loudly, feet pounding against the wood as he walks in on his other siblings gathering their own school supplies together. Jovany's chin juts out, hair artfully tucked into the baseball hat that he wears to school on guy days (_if only high school let you do that_, Kalani mourns, thinking of the black beanie hanging on the lamp in his room, separated from him by school rules and the cruel, cruel universe). Abriel and Adrielle are, shockingly, _not_ wearing the same clothes, but Elias still hasn't combed his hair. Kalani sighs, licks and wide strip up his palm, and flattens it, ignoring his younger brother's protests. By the time he's finished, Elias' black hair gleams in a way vaguely reminiscent of a particularly well-polished car.

"Have a good day," Kalani says softly, slinging his arms around both Adriel and Abrielle and offering a hug to Jovany, who stiffly continues to pack his backpack. Adriel is talking before the three of them even start towards their school, glancing at her twin once every couple of seconds to make sure she's still nodding her attention. Once the middle schoolers are successfully out the door, Kalani turns to his remaining younger brothers, grinning.

"I wanna lead us today!" Gabriel pipes up before Elias can beat him to it.

"Hey, no fair!" Elias protests. Kalani glances at his watch and then casually starts to herd the second- and fourth-grader towards the door, listening to them with one ear, listening to make sure everything in the kitchen is turned off with the other. "It's my day to lead the way!"

"But you say that every day!"

"Kalani, tell him it's my turn!" Elias whines, looking up at his older brother with puppy dog eyes – wide, like Kalani's, like his father's, but blue, enough that Kalani doesn't get any ugly reminders looking at them, the way he does his own.

"Gabe, if you lead for today then can Elias lead tomorrow?" Kalani asks cautiously, avoiding Elias' demand. Gabriel's such a quiet kid – he only ever asks for something when it's incredibly important to him – but he doesn't want Elias to feel unloved, since technically, Kalani's been leading them for the last three-ish weeks.

"That'd be fine," Gabe agrees, beaming at him.

"Is that good with you, Eli?" Kalani prods, watching with fingers crossed as his younger brother pouts.

He's tried so hard to instill ideas like compromise into his younger siblings, but there's only so much he can do – he's 15, he's _far_ from a role model, and even if he was, he's not a _parental_ figure. He's got his limits on what he can teach them. But he's done his best, and maybe, he's done some good – _maybe_ –

"Yeah, that's fine," Eli relents, and Kalani inwardly shouts for joy.

Gabriel beams and skips in front of the two of them, careful not to travel far enough forward that he can't hear the slap of Kalani's flip flops louder than his own breathing. It's lucky the high school and elementary school are so close together, or Kalani would have to force Gabe and Eli into their classrooms hours before any actually classes started. Such as it is, Kalani can wave at them from the gate and then walk just two blocks away through the front doors of DI High, into the pristine halls where he is immediately shoved into a locker.

"Sorry, Lagai." Rufus Shinra immediately backs away, letting him stumble away from the headache he'll have all day, faking amends with a shit-eating grin. "Thought you were somebody else."

"No problem," Kalani manages through the throbbing in the back of his neck.

Well, he _had_ said that he preferred days where Shinra is at school, so it's really his own fault.

The problem with Rufus Shinra is that, no matter how douchey he is (the guy bleaches his hair, come _on_), there is an ever-growing list of reasons why Kalani should not, under any circumstances, get into fight with him. First off Mr. Shinra is ultra-protective _and_ a multimillionaire, which paired together could make his life a living hell. Second off, Rufus himself has at least five guys fully prepared to do his dirty work for him, at least two of whom were stronger than Kalani individually, much less as a unit. Third, there's no actual way to _prove_ that Shinra's harassing him. Lots of guys who are friends will shove each other around and joke about serious stuff together. Kalani would probably just be accused of overreacting.

Anyway, he'd get suspended for fighting on school grounds, and then he'd _really_ hear it from Mom.

So instead of punching Shinra in the face like he wants to, he tugs at the frayed strap of his backpack and ducks his head against the crowd of people walking on the wrong side of the hallway, weaving between students until he finally reaches his locker, grudgingly dropping his annotations into his chem folder to work on during class. He doesn't have English until sixth period, but knowing him he'll probably put it off until lunch and then afterwards, if his masochistic procrastinating brain thinks it can get away with it.

With a sigh, watching Shinra's band of Turks leer across the hall, Kalani heads to class.

+x+

Professor T's room is empty again at the end of the day.

Kalani's not here to see him, though; he'd already heard about the impromptu substitute they'd had to call in when the Professor hadn't shown up. He's no fool. Sora's not here, probably will never return here – and like he's been told, as long as his predecessor still wields the Keyblade, it's impossible for Kalani to use it regularly. And he knows what the Heartless can do to worlds.

He heads straight to the weapons rack, cracking the wall of wooden boards where the sub had put them under lockdown, and searches out his favorite weapon – or, well, weapons. Finally he catches sight of them, pulling the plank out of the barricade completely, and reaches in with both arms, fists closing on the heavily engraved handles. He pulls them out and inspects the blades of his axes; though they're built like scythes (which makes sense, since they were a farming tool before they were a weapon), their blades are sharpened so closely that he could slice himself on them, if he isn't careful. He smiles lightly at the familiar weight before looking around for something to carry them in so they don't cut a slit in his backpack.

He finds it on Professor T's desk; a square box full of junk that he pours onto the wheeled seat behind the table. He carefully wraps the pair of axes in tissues he finds in the small container perched dangerously atop a stack of encyclopedias before stowing them in the box, which he slides in next to his trigonometry book in his backpack.

He's dragging it over his shoulder, already thinking forward to how he'll spend the rest of the day, when he notices something out of place on the Professor's desk. It's a little thing, hardly noticeable for most people, but Kalani has spent every day all summer _and_ the last five months of school in this room, and nothing ever changes except which exact papers the Professor is in the process of grading. But now, hanging off the edge of the table, is a keychain - and not just any keychain; it's a keychain with a pattern of three circles, pure black, hanging from nothing.

He stares. That looks…familiar, somehow.

_The power of the mystic. Inner strength. A staff of wonder and ruin_.

A three-circle pattern, everywhere he looks.

He tucks the keychain in his pocket before making his slow way out of the room.

**EQUIPPED KAMA**

**OBTAINED KINGDOM KEYCHAIN**

His path home is long, thoughtful, and punctuated by various islanders trying to catch his eye from across the street. Coach Wakka (who's been trying to get Kalani into blitzball since he was five years old) throws a ball at him so hard that he falls into Tidus' shop, where he's somehow conned into buying a bunch of Hi Potions he doesn't actually need. Inevitably, he walks out feeling confused both about himself and the universe in general, which isn't entirely unusual as far as symptoms of talking to Tidus go. He might as well take a few pit stops, anyway; Mom's already picked everyone else up from school by now, and he doesn't have any especially difficult homework to do.

"_Get inside!_" he hears a voice shout when he's almost home, and hell does _that_ speed him up.

By the time he's jogged to the front lawn all of his siblings are already in the doorframe, watching fearfully as Summon Gem Girl – what had Jove called her? Mani or something? – pulls out her weapon again, determinedly facing down the giant Nobody Kalani had seen in his dream.

"Kalani!" Addie shouts, almost tearing out of her twins' grip, but Jove catches her by the elbow just before she gets out of reach dragging her back. Kalani is already ripping his backpack off even as Mani turns to him, looking absolutely unsurprised by the turn of events.

"Do you have a weapon?" she calls matter-of-factly – and then, hastily, "One that _isn't_ the Keyblade!"

"Yeah!" he shouts back, ignoring the way his siblings fall silent as he wrestles the box out of where its fallen to the bottom of his bag, ripping it open and grabbing one kama for each hand, jogging over to her. "What happened? Where'd it come from?"

She frowns at him, thin lips pursed. She looks a little different now – she's detached some of the pieces of her flak jacket, and her hair has started to fall down in strands beneath her helmet, not enough that he can tell the color but enough that it frames her face, barely. "I came to look for you so we could assess the situation and decide what to do next," she tells him, eyes purposefully accusing, though _why_ he doesn't know. "But when I got to your house, I found the child – uh" – she glances over at where his siblings are cowering in awe – "Gabriel being attacked. Naturally I helped him to safety. And then this _thing_…grew."

Kalani grimaces and twirls one of his axes in his hand, a nervous habit he'd never forced himself out of, even though Sora had told him again and again how dangerous it is. "Alright, so we take it down, we assess the situation and decide what to do next," he sums up. "Sound about right to you?" Turning slightly, he notices with a disappointed detachment that his siblings, instead of doing the normal thing and moving to safety, are standing on the front step and gaping. "Get them inside!" he snaps at Jove, who jumps out of his trance and immediately starts to usher his younger siblings into the house.

"Mmm," Manami hums in response to his question, ignoring the ruckus as Jovany drags his unwilling siblings into the front room. "I hope you're good with those."

"Could say the same about you," Kalani grumbles under his breath, but then the Nobody throws a giant arm down between them and the game is afoot.

**MANAMI JOINED YOUR PARTY**

It's a laborious battle and Kalani aches all over when he finally strikes the last blow, a well-placed hooking moved dragging it in so he can impale it on the tip of his other kama. Ma-whatever looks breathless but not nearly as bruised as he feels, which he supposes makes sense since she's actually dressed for battle, but really there's only so much upstaging he can take from this girl before he needs a break. "Alright," he huffs, bending down. After a moment he straightens back up, stretching one arm over his shoulder. "What's your name again?"

"Manami," she says tersely. "I never caught yours," she adds, reaching up to undo her helmet strap and letting it fall, revealing a swath of violet hair pulled into a bun falling out at the edges. Kalani takes a moment to stare – he doesn't _think_ that hair color is natural, but Professor T had that painting of the blue-haired woman in his classroom and supposedly that was natural, so who knows – before forcing his focus back on her face as she redoes her bun.

"Kalani," he greets, giving her a hesitant smile. "So, time to assess and decide, huh?"

She retreats as he extends his hand but finally manages an "It would seem so" before taking it and allowing him to lead her into his home.

+x+

"I miss my helmet," Manami murmurs, wrapping her arms – clad in one of Jovany's sweaters that rides up on her stomach and a pair of Kalani's jeans – around her torso like she's trying to hold herself in. Her hair's beautiful now that Abbie insisted she wash and dry it, hanging in curtains around her eyes, and it's clearly a natural violet, a consistent color throughout. "And my boots," she adds, touching her toes together through the socks Kalani had forced on her while he washed their clothes.

"You look very clean," he compliments, and she scowls at him.

"I _feel_ very unprepared," she grumbles. "If there's a fight I'll be entirely useless." She taps her fingers on her club – a _Kanabō_, Jovany had identified earlier, mouth hanging open as he stared – as she falls into the puffy couch in the center of Kalani's living room.

"Because you changed clothes?" Kalani prods, sliding into the seat next to her with much less fanfare, eyeing the ceiling warily. Mom has yet to stop working and check on them, but he isn't willing to push his luck, and if she finds out Kalani brought a girl home (especially a girl wielding a giant metal bat) then she'll flip her lid.

"Because I changed into _civilian_ clothes," she says, like it's a bad word. "Almost everything I'm wearing now could be used against me. The jeans are tight enough I wouldn't be able to run properly, the fabric of the sweater could get caught on something – don't even get me _started_ on my hair." She gets started on it anyway. "It could get caught in something, an enemy could grab it and pull it, it could get ripped out of my head – it's _dangerous_, is what this is."

Kalani blinks, leaning the tiniest bit away from her. "You've, uh, really thought this through," he manages.

"It was required of me, back home," she manages and the falls silent, staring at a blank space in the wall, thin lips curled into a frown.

This conversation is going nowhere. Time to backtrack. "So assessing the situation," Kalani offers cautiously, "I think it's time to ask each other some questions. Sound good to you?"

Manami nods, sitting up a little straighter, removing her thin fingers from the handle of her Kanabō. "There are things I wish to ask you, as well," she reports. "Would you like to go first, or should I?"

"I will," Kalani ascertains, leaning back over to her from where he'd inched away only a minute or two ago. He catches sight of Abbie and Addie in the door and makes a face at them; Abbie squeaks and drags her twin out of sight before he can rain his older-brotherly wrath upon them. "First things first – how did you decide you could trust me?"

She pauses, head cocked, analyzing him. Then she digs into her jeans pocket and pulls out a gleaming gem, one that he distinctly recognizes from the Heartless battle the day before.

"The amount of magic it takes to turn someone into a summon gem is very little," she tells him, weighing the stone in the palm of her hand where he can keep it in sight. "It takes minor amounts to turn the gem back into a human as well. These alter only a few standard laws of physics. But to separate the human from the gem completely would take so much magical power – it would be almost godlike." She gives him another critical look. "Yet you did not attack me with what little you know how to use. The natural assumption was that you did not wish to hurt me."

He blanches. "So the reason you trust me is – "

"Because you have metahuman powers, yes," she agrees. "You are strong enough to bend the very fabric of reality."

"Holy shit," he hisses, holding his head in his hands.

"What?"

"What?"

She frowns. "Why would…_fecal_ _matter_ be holy?"

"Why would – oh." He blinks. "It's just a phrase. Didn't they use those on your world?"

Manami purses her lips. "Kal…ani," she says, tasting the foreign word slow, "are you aware of how summon gems are created?"

"Yeah, a world falls into dark – oh." Well then.

"Mmm. I believe it's my turn for a question." She leans forward, twiddling her thumbs, an unconscious rasp emphasizing her voice. "How do you know Sora?"

"Sora – you mean Professor T?" Calling teachers by their first names is just weird. Manami nods. Across the room, the grandfather clock _clunk_s – a sign that it's now 9:00 at night. "He was my Latin teacher when I was a freshman. Then I walked in on him beating the shit out of some monsters, and, uh, since I knew about all the dangerous stuff, he started training me. With weapons. He let me use the Keyblade after a while, but I'm still not very good with it."

"I'm sorry – he beat the _what_ out of them?" she asks, startled.

Mentally he analyzes his own words. "It's another expression," he says, a little self-conscious about his language now that it's being nitpicked. "It means he was beating them up a lot." He pauses. "I'm gonna take a wild guess here and say you know Sora because he summoned you?"

"You would be correct." She pauses. "So since you know Sora, do you happen to know where his gummi ship is?"

"His – what."

"His gummi ship," she says impatiently. "He must've mentioned it to you at some point."

"In his stories, yeah, but he never said what happened to it afterwards," he admits, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Anyway, can't Keyblades be used for travel?"

"Not _practically_," Manmi says sharply, levelling a glare in his direction.

Kalani puts both his hands above his head in a gesture of innocence. "What do you have against the Keyblade?" he asks, because it's his turn to ask a question and, hey, he's curious. "It's not like it's hurt you or anything."

She scowls. "Your knowledge of the Keyblade is limited to what Sora has told you and your own experience with it," she tells him. "But on my world, there were whole schools of thought devoted to it. I was a…maidservant, you might say, at one of these schools." She pauses, forcing her palms flat on her jeans. "You think the Keyblade is just a weapon. It's not. It is a force of nature with its own peculiar stream of consciousness, which means it has a survival instinct and, on top of that, the ability to alter reality itself to ensure its own continued existence."

"Alter reality?"

"It can see all of the possibilities and adjust them accordingly. For example, had Sora remembered his mother, then his adventure would have turned out much differently, but such as it was the moment he touched the Keyblade, his family was wiped from his mind – and him from theirs." She stares blankly at her fingers, scratching at a loose strand of denim. "As I said, I helped out at one of the schools, so I could check and find out who Sora's family actually was."

"Missus Terrin," Kalani says, voice dull, and Manami nods.

"They still don't remember each other," she says. "Such is the nature of the Keyblade. It does not care for its wielders – it simply uses them as tools. Any who wish to become the master of the Keyblade must do so not by mastering by the weapon, but mastering themselves, overcoming the Keyblade's sphere of control enough to retain their sense of self and stop the Keyblade from altering their reality. As such, you absolutely do _not_ use it unless you are a Master or it is an emergency."

"But I trained with it and I'm fine," Kalani protests.

"Training with a weapon and wielding it in battle are separate actions, and the Keyblade recognizes this," Manami condescends, frowning at him. After a moment where she analyzes her harsh tone, her shoulders sag apologetically. "I'm sorry. I have had a taxing few days and have been overly harsh on you."

"No, it's, uh, it's fine," Kalani reassures. He glances at the window; the sun has just started to kiss the horizon, the sky not yet a splash of color but a series of soothing pastels. "Anything particular about the last couple days, or…?"

"The monsters that have overtaken this world," she says, soft. "I've…never seen anything like them."

"What, you mean the Heartless?"

She looks up, startled. "What did you say?"

"The Heartless. They're the black things from when I summoned you." Kalani clears his throat. She leans forward, legs crossing as she puts her elbow on them, perching her chin on her palm. He shifts in his seat before he continues. "See, a long time ago this guy Ansem and his apprentices started experimenting with hearts. But the experiments went whack and he accidentally created monsters – Heartless and Nobodies. Heartless are a person's heart, but it's been so warped and twisted that only the darkest parts of it remain visible – the heart's light is kept deep down, and only gets released when the Heartless dies. Only the Keyblade can do that – well, and your weapon, I guess, but I don't know why that is." He coughs. "Nobodies are the two things leftover in a person when the heart disappears – their body and soul. They hardly even exist. That's what we fought out there."

She nods, slow, absorbing the information with surprising grace. "But why are they here?"

"That I don't know," Kalani admits guiltily. "They've never been here before. So I figure, it probably has something to do with the Professor."

"You think they're searching for him?"

"I'm not sure. But if they were, then he's probably taken the gummy ship to another world with him."

She stands, brushing the dust of her jeans. "Uh, where are you going?" Kalani asks, standing with her before uncertainly hovering back over the seat.

"To find where he docked his ship," she replies, grabbing her club and throwing it into the air, where it immediately disappears. "Perhaps he left some sort of sign as to where he went, and if not I should be able to track him by the magical traces he would have left."

He stands fully, sighing in relief at something he can actually help with. "I'll come too," he offers.

She eyes him disdainfully. "You'll want to bring you weapons," she says, chin jerking up in the general direction of his room, where'd he stored his kama.

"I'm aware of that, thanks." Yeesh. "I'll be back in just a couple seconds." With that, he darts up the stairs, leaving her standing alone, hands grasping each other behind her back.

There is a long stillness as she breathes in the stale air of the living room. Then she turns to the doorway and says, quiet, "I told you this would happen."

Jovany emerges sheepishly from where he'd been hidden behind the wooden paneling, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "I know you told me he was powerful, but. Uh." He swallows, tan throat bobbing ever so slightly; some of his silky black hair has fallen out from beneath his cap. "That's fucking – crazy. Jesus."

"It's unnatural," Manami says, glancing at the stairs in paranoid preparation of Kalani's inevitable return. "However he got it, someone's planning something big for him. And I cannot allow any harm to come to one of the only wielders left – which means that you, being next in line in his heritage, will be the next target." Manami steps forward, digging into her pocket to pull out a ring with a beautiful purple jewel in the middle. "Take this."

"What's this for?" he asks suspiciously but he's already reaching out; she drops it into his palm and he recoils, examining it for a moment before carefully slipping it on.

"There's a tracking device in the metal. I should be able to find you if anything happens." Jovany hesitates before he opens his mouth, undoubtedly to make some overdramatic dig at her.

"Alright, let's get going!" Kalani calls down the stairs as he trudges towards them, stomping out a 3/4 rhythm on the stairs, his Kama strapped to his back. Jovany slips out of the room before he makes it all the way down, back to the wall of the kitchen. "Lead the way, Nam."

"Na – okay, whatever." She shakes her head. "We'll be back in a while for my clothes, I presume."

"Mmmhmm." Then, a little louder, "We'll be back in a couple of hours!" before he dashes to the door, romping down the garden pathway to the sidewalk, where he waits impatiently for her to catch up to him.

"How do you have so much energy?" she demands, nose wrinkling as she hops over to where he stands and the two match strides down the walkway.

"Save point in my bedroom," Kalani chirps before leading his bemused acquaintance towards the school.

+x+

"Wait."

He stutters to a stop. They searched the entire mainland before deciding – amongst other conclusions, such as _there are a shitload of treasure chests here_ and _oh we can open them with Kalani's Kama alright then_ – that it must be docked on one of the islands, and he had shown her to the boat Eli likes to take out on summer evenings, rowing them to the large palmed areas. They'd gone through most of that, too, but there was _another_, much smaller island connected to it with a bridge that they had finally decided to check on.

Manami perches upon the oddly-proportioned tree, surveying the entirety of her surroundings, before she extends her hand to the middle of the circle and says, voice throaty with power, "_Esuna_". Immediately a giant red ship shimmers into view where it'd previously been both invisible and untouchable; it's made of some undefinable substance that feels like jelly to the touch. Manami walks to it gravely, steps pounding slow on the island beneath her as she takes in the ship with a frown.

"Dude," Kalani manages, gaping at the ship, "you _have_ to teach me that spell."

"All it does is remove status effects," Manami mumbles, managing a bemused look in his direction. "You won't need it."

"Status effects?"

"It's not a big deal." She pauses to survey the ship. "However, _this_ certainly is."

Kalani nods and walks up to hear, flip flops slapping against his toes as he comes to a standstill next to her. "If the gummi ship is here," he deduces, slow, steady, "that means that Sora didn't leave on his own. And if Sora didn't leave on his own, and the Heartless and Nobodies are here…"

There is a long pause.

"I'm afraid your Latin teacher's been kidnapped," Manami apologizes, and Kalani snorts. "I should be able to go look for him; there were flying classes back at the academy…" She side-eyes him awkwardly.

"I'll come with you," he decides after a moment, because that's clearly what she'd been about to ask him to do.

She still manages to look surprised, though. "You don't have to," she protests. "You have a school of your own to attend – and your family."

Kalani winces thinking of Shinra and the Turks at the hellhole, at the school that's not really a school, not if Professor T isn't there, and then of home, with a dad who plays dead on the other side of the world and mom, ever distant, and a series of responsibilities he never asked for. "Thanks but no thanks. I'd much rather go exploring. Anyway, I can always come back, right?"

She hesitates, eyeing him thoughtfully. "I suppose," she allows finally. "We should go get changed, though."

"Yeah, you should," he agrees, but stops at her raised eyebrows.

"I said _we_. Not everyone gets to choose their attire before an adventure, and those who do should take advantage of the opportunity."

He grimaces – but then, the Professor had shown him pictures and those clothes had been _ridiculous_, so maybe choosing your own attire has its own advantages. "Okay, fine," he manages, sighing, "but you're _not_ allowed to judge my clothing choices."

+x+

"That hat is going to get you killed."

"What did I _say_," Kalani groans, "about judging my clothes?" He reaches up to adjust the black beanie so that all his hair but the angular orange bangs are shoved beneath it. "Anyway, how is a beanie going to get me killed?" She sits up and opens her mouth. "Don't answer that."

She sits back with a scowl, grumbling to herself. He ignores her and looks in the mirror one more time, admiring his own clothing choices. Unlike Manami, he has a bulky figure – it used to be because of fat but now it's mostly muscle, not that it's possible to _see_ the difference – and no armor on hand, so rather than stocking up on layers that he wouldn't need (seriously, are her arm guards necessary?), he'd settled for lots of loose-fitting, easy to run in clothes, like a tank top and an easy-to-unzip jacket, along with some black sweatpants. Like he'd said, he's a big kid, so it's harder for him to go unnoticed – and the more clothes you wear, the more noticeable you are.

"Anyway, you're allowed to wear that helmet," he adds disdainfully. She's put her hair back in a bun in preparation for their departure, and after hastily fluffing her clothes in the dryer she'd put them back on with much more enthusiasm than when she'd changed earlier.

"That's different," she insists, twirling a pen on the desk as she waits impatiently. "It's a _solid_ hat, so it's _protective_. It's saved me many times before. _Beanies_, on the other hand – "

"Alright, I get it!" He sighs and tosses her a frown.

She makes a face at him. "We should get going. Have you said goodbye to everyone?"

"My siblings, yeah." It had been a particularly tearful moment in which he passed responsibility of his siblings on to Jovany right up until Eli had tripped over a plant and somehow managed to spill every single package of flour they owned on top of himself as a result. "I still gotta tell my mom I'm leaving, though."

"I'll wait here," Manami offers, but Kalani's already shaking his head.

"I'll just make something up next time we come back," he says, eyeing the room with a faraway look. She won't even notice he's gone, probably.

He feels like a piece of shit, leaving his family with no warning – _I'll come back_, he promised, but he's not the first person to leave them to say that – but he will. He reaffirms it to himself over and over. He'll come back and soon. He'll tell Mom that he'd gone on an impromptu roadtrip or something. He'll figure it out.

"Okay," he says, taking one last look around his room beforesmiling at his new companion as they prepare to leave the world.

_You are never alone_.

"Let's go."

**THE GUMMI SHIP CAN BE ACCESSED AT SAVE POINTS**

**ACCESS IT BY CLICKING THE TRIANGLE BUTTON AND CHOOSING THE 'GUMMI' OPTION**

+x+

You stare at the screen.

"Oh god I should stop," you mumble to yourself, because you're going out for lunch later and you've still got those papers and there's so much to do, this is not how you should be wasting your time.

_One more world_, PLAYER ONE decides, and then you'll go to your responsibilities.

Then you click the Gummi option and the world disappears for a little while longer.

+x+

AUTHOR'S NOTE

so

let me assuage anyone whos gotten this far: nobody read this far. like, 2 people, maybe, and at least 1 of them was me. and thats okay. the amount of fanfic a persons willing to read is not the same as the amount of original story a persons willing to read, and thats ok. that being said, if you did take the time to read this, id like to applaud you lots.

there are 2 goals with this story. one of them is to tie up any and all notable plotholes in the original kh series (e.g. "where the fuck did chernabog come from what. what"). the other is to write a fanfic using every single trope (according to the tvtropes kh page) found in the first kh game. this required a sort of satirically post-modernist form of writing. i feel as though writers should be aware of the plot devices theyre using in their story, so this is an attempt to /make/ myself more aware.

so, tropes used in this chapter are:

Bridal Carry (Implied); Easing Into the Adventure; Foreshadowing; Gameplay and Story Segregation; Good Morning, Crono; Invisible Parents (subverted); Legendary Weapon; and Videogame Settings: Palm Tree Town.


	2. Traversing the Galaxy

Manami takes a deep breath as she stares at the gummi ship's controls. "Okay," she mutters, hands shaking as she reaches towards the wheel before she hastily draws back again. Sure, she'd been to a _couple_ of classes the Academy had given on flying, but mostly they'd been lectures – and honestly she'd spent most of them making faces at Adan, who had been obligated to be there if he wanted to pass. But this boy – Kalani, right? – has even less experience than her, so she'll have to fly it at least on a temporary basis.

Okay, breathe. Deep breaths.

"Are you okay?" Kalani asks.

"I'm fine!" she snarls, feeling guilty almost immediately after. Is he angry at her now? "Sorry. I'm fine."

"It's no problem," he says. Is he just saying that to feel better or is he truly comfortable with the situation? What if he's only attempting to assuage her? How do you _tell_? "Just, uh. You _can_ fly this thing, right?"

She hesitates, hands curling as she reaches out to the wheel again, lips thin in determination. "Yes." A pause. "Maybe. Probably. There's, uh, a 70% chance."

"Great," he says with a sigh and she panics inwardly. Was that sarcastic?

Social cues are _hard_.

"It'll be fine," she reassures, hopefully sounding at least slightly confident. "Just…I may need a moment to familiarize myself." Okay, that big red button is probably bad. She's seen what happens when people hit giant red buttons; one time, Aure had pressed one on a kitchen blender and Manami hadn't slept for a week because of the –

She shuts that thought down fast. This is not the time to be reminiscing. This is the time to be forging ahead and figuring out how to fly this damn ship.

"Okay," she mutters, and then "okay" again because the word tastes nice on her tongue and she needs to calm down if she's going to get this done. Hesitantly, she presses down on the pedal beneath the wheel. Immediately the ship sky rockets up; Manami squeals and automatically takes her foot off the pedal, which causes it to plummet back towards the world beneath them.

"Okay," she hisses before slamming on the pedal again and twirling the wheel, improvising as best she can. Kalani's shouting behind her as the ship pinballs through space. "You should probably put a seat belt on!" she calls behind herself.

"Thanks a lot!" he calls back. That one was sarcastic. Probably.

She slams on the pedal next to the one she'd been pressing on before and the ship careens to a stop, throwing her forward in her seat and him against the back of her chair. There's a long moment of stillness before she hesitantly steps off the pedal; the ship shudders for a moment before zooming towards the nearest center of gravity – the next world. "Okay," Manami mutters, and then, louder, "You should probably take a seat since we're going to crash."

"Are you – " Kalani cusses as he scrambles to the nearest chair, clicking the seatbelt in just before the nosedive straight into the middle of a large, empty square.

+x+

**TRAVERSE TOWN**

Kalani is still staring over his shoulder as they walk into what a sign loudly proclaims as First District. "That's a really convenient empty space," he says, "and a _really_ convenient door between there and the residential zone."

"Sora probably made it when he was traveling through the worlds," Manami hums, twirling her helmet in her hand; though she feels naked without it, wearing it would look weird in a civilian setting. Kalani's giving her enough odd looks as it is for the uniform she's wearing (standard battle garb, not to be worn during lecture classes or in the hallways). "He crash-landed a lot, right?" Though unaware of Sora's full story – she had only ever read about it in prophecies and other long-winded secondary sources – she had learned bits and pieces of it from the few times he'd summoned her.

"Yeah, but I don't think he had a gummi ship when he came to this world," Kalani says. It's lucky for Manami that he's so expressive, waving his hands every which way when he talks, face morphing into whatever emotion he happens to be feeling at a particular moment; otherwise, she would have some issues deciphering his intentions when he spoke. Social interaction has never come easily. "Donald and Goofy did, though. I think."

"You'll have to tell me this story at some point," Manami sighs, shaking her head. "Anyway, we should find somebody to fix our gummi ship."

"Speaking of finding somebody, where is everyone?"

She pauses, steps stuttering to a halt at the start of some stairs. Now that he mentions it, it's eerily silent– not a soul in sight. All of the lights are off, casting the town – perpetually living in night, if Manami recalls correctly – in almost complete darkness. It's kind of spooky. She jams her helmet back on her head to make herself feel safe again. "Do you think something happened to this world?" she asks. "Some sort of one-world apocalypse?"

"Those can happen?" Kalani says. The blood has drained from his face, which means – Manami wracks her mental notes – that he's either afraid or embarrassed. She's going to go out on a limb and guess 'afraid'.

"All the time."

"How do you know? Like – was that in a class or something?"

She pauses a moment, staring at a blank point in the wall. "We should go," she says finally when the memories are finished cycling through (_blood stains a dying girl's mouth the Masters are dead everyone's dead Manami everyone's dead_). "If we can find out what happened, we might be able to restore this world to its former glory."

"Yeah," Kalani says shakily and moves to step forward before –

"Hey, you!" a voice shouts, and they both look up to see a man with a scowl peeking out at them from behind a door. "Didn't you hear me?" he adds when they stand there for a full minute, stunned. "Get in here!"

She turns to Kalani, waiting for some sort of signal. After a long moment he nods and walks uncertainly towards the door. She follows up behind him. "Freaking kids," the man mutters darkly, holding the door open wide enough for them to duck in around him, "out on the street with the devil himself roaming around…"

"The what?" Manami frowns.

"Chernabog, that's what," the man snaps. He's only in his 30s, maybe early 40s, judging by his stance and the beautiful hair that he clearly cherishes, but his straight backed posture and the darkness in his eyes both scream of a wisdom beyond his age. "You know. _The devil._"

"I'm sorry, who's Chernobyl?" Kalani asks, blinking.

"No – _Chernabog_. That was a stupid joke and you should feel bad." Then, glancing between them, he manages a slightly appalled, "You mean you really don't know? What rock have _you_ been living under?"

"Leon," a voice from the next room calls, "who are you talking – oh." A woman with caramel hair blinks in the doorway. "Well."

His face seems to darken again with the inclusion of another person. "Found these kids outside," Leon grunts before collapsing into a chair, scowling at everyone in the room. His brown hair finally shifts out of his eyes, exposing a long, thin scar down his cheek. "Decided to bring them in. No point in letting them die out there."

The woman is beautiful, only allowing herself a moment of hesitation before casting both Kalani and Manami a small, full-lipped smile. "Sorry about my fiancé. It's been a while since this world's had any new visitors come by." She shrugs fondly. Then, as the silence starts to feel awkward, she tacks on, "My name's Rinoa. So, uh, who are you again?"

"Kalani," Kalani pipes up before Manami can say anything. "This is Manami. We're actually looking for someone to help us fix our gummi ship. It kind of…" he clears his throat.

"Crashed," Manami offers helpfully.

"Thank you, Nam," Kalani says and oh god that one was _definitely_ sarcastic. "So do you know anybody or…?"

There's a pause as Leon sighs and shakes his head mournfully. "Cid would be great for this," he mutters under his breath. "If we could just get a message to them – "

"Oh hush," Rinoa scolds, offering her two guests an apologetic look. "Leon's not from this world. All of his friends still live on Radiant Garden. They used to pop by all the time, but nowadays…" She shakes her head mournfully. "And we can't leave because of Chernabog."

"Yeah, who is that? And why is he on this world?" Kalani asks, leaning against a cozy unlit fireplace.

Rinoa hesitates, choosing her words carefully before she starts to tiptoe her way through the conversation. "Back before the worlds were connected, Traverse Town was kind of like a refugee camp for people who lost their worlds. Chernabog was from this world called Bald Mountain, but he was kind of evil. Most of his time there was spent raising the dead and torturing the other villagers. So when his world was destroyed by darkness, he went searching for the next weakest village – and the most available one, the world most connected to other worlds."

"You guys," Kalani says.

Rinoa nods. "He likes to kill people and then bring them back."

"Okay, well, we need to get our gummi ship fixed so we can get off this world," Manami works out, "but we can't leave you here to be tortured by monsters. So if you'll help us fix our ship, we'll defeat Chernabog for you. Deal?"

Leon is already shaking his head. "Already tried to defeat it," he says gruffly, "and I have a _hell_ of a lot more training than you guys have. Nah, we'll help you fix your ship and then you all will go get help from someone who's competent."

Manami _seriously_ doubts that Leon has more training than she does and is opening her mouth to say so when Kalani gives her a look and she shuts it again. "Okay, whatever," he agrees, turning to look at the pair again. "Just help us get it fixed?"

Leon nods at that. "We need somebody good with gummi ships."

"Does Ruslan know anybody?" Rinoa asks. There is a pause.

"Do I know anybody who…?" a voice calls, and the four of them turn to see a boy – probably about 14, maybe 15 – with long blonde hair tied into a ponytail behind his back, dressed in a dark jacket and faded jeans.

"Can fix gummi ships," Rinoa clarifies. Kalani and Manami exchange glances. How long has _he_ been there?

Ruslan brightens immediately. "Yeah, Daichi's been working with them for forever! Here, I know a way to get to him without running into Chernabog," he offers, casting Manami a glance that makes her uncomfortable in her own skin, if only for a moment. Kalani instinctively takes a step towards her. "You guys need to see him, right? Just follow me, and we'll talk on the way there."

There is a moment's pause before a green circle shimmers into existence. Squealing something about 'saving', Kalani dives over to it, leaving Manami alone and uncomfortable as the other boy casually walks over to her, smirking lightly. "So what's your name again?" he asks, and she thinks he's probably trying to sound friendly, but mostly he's just awkwardly leering, white face pale in the firelight.

"Manami," she says, tugging awkwardly at her gloves so that her fingers grip the very edges of the fabric.

"Manami," he says, calm, like he's committing it to memory. "Nice name. Soft, kind of."

"Um," she mutters, desperate for an exit, when Kalani returns with an excited smile that falls when he sees them.

"Lead the way," he tells Ruslan, a slow frown taking over his face. Ruslan smiles and bows mockingly before he leads them to the door and through the streets, stopping every once in a while for Kalani to open a treasure chest with his kama.

"Hey," Kalani mutters, fingers dancing across Manami's elbow, "if he makes you uncomfortable, don't be afraid to mess him up, alright? We don't know anything about him. Guy might be a friend, sure, but he also might be a creep."

Manami hesitates. "But he's a superior," she whispers, voice full of dread and forced habit. "You're not allowed to attack a superior. It's in the rules."

"Superior?"

She nods. "He's a Gunblade wielder."

Kalani comes to a complete stop at that, gaping at the other boy's back; Ruslan seems completely ignorant of their conversation as he walks ahead of them. "The hell is a _gunblade_?" Kalani demands, voice a little too loud. Manami shushes him paranoidly, but Ruslan doesn't seem to have heard anything. She lets her breath out in relief.

"It's a long story. I'll tell you later," she promises.

"Alright, this is it!" Ruslan chirps outside a tall, stained glass door in Second District, bringing the two teens behind him to a stuttering halt, both in conversation and in their steps. He shoves the door open with his shoulder, revealing what appears to be a large garage. A giant gummi ship sits in the center, long, thin, and blue, with purple stripes down the nose. A clanging echoes through the room and Manami realizes with a start that someone is beneath the ship with a wrench, working through what must be kinks in the system.

Ruslan doesn't waste any time, walking straight over to the skateboard the person working is using and kicking it, hard. There's another loud _clang_ and a yelp before somebody rolls out, rubbing their forehead. "Dude!" the boy manages indignantly. "Hell was that for?"

"You were in your zone," Ruslan shrugs with a smug smile. "Got some customers for you. From outta town."

The boy immediately brightens, shoving palm-down until he stands, though judging from the wince as he rubs his head it isn't worth it. "Sweet! You guys are from another world?" he chirps, casting Manami and Kalani eager looks. He has a soft face, round everywhere but his chin, with curly black hair cut short and dull blue eyes. His clothes are absolutely ridiculous, way too many zippers and bright colors to be practical. The only thing he's wearing that looks remotely useful is a tool belt wrapped through the loops of his pants. He looks vaguely Asian, too; Indian, probably, though the region past that is lost on her.

"Uh, yeah," Kalani says, smiling, scratching the back of his neck idly. "I mean – it's not a big deal, right? Not since Prof – "

"Master Sora," Manami interrupts.

"– Master Sora connected the worlds," Kalani corrects flawlessly. Manami kind of wants to feel bad about interrupting his familiarity with the Master, but it'd be best if they keep their cover as long as possible. "There's interworld travel all the time."

"Yeah, but it's still _cool_," the boy says eagerly. He steps forward, extending his hand. "Daichi Haryana, at your service. And you are…?"

"Kalani Lagai," Kalani introduces himself, shaking the hand presented to him with both of his own. "This is Manami. Uh, I don't know her last name…"

Manami isn't listening, though; her eyes are glazed over as she watches Daichi. There's something – odd. Something off. Something about his eyes, something familiar –

_Those are Aure's eyes_, she realizes, and her whole body goes cold, because she knows now without a doubt that she's looking at a Keyblade wielder.

"Manami?" Kalani prods, and Manami jumps, looking up. "Your last name?"

"Oh. Uh, I don't have one."

There's a long pause at that. "What," Kalani says, voice deadpan. Manami blinks before her face floods with color as she realizes she's the center of attention. She stares resolutely at a speck on the wall.

"We didn't have surnames on my world. There was never a need for them." She mentally sends up a desperate prayer that no one will ask any more questions about it.

Unfortunately, the gods don't seem to be listening. "Dude, get out!" Ruslan cheers, slapping her on the shoulder, ignoring the glare that burns holes into his shoulder. "I thought that was, like, an ancient times thing. Man. Worlds are _weird_."

"Can we stop talking about this, please?" Manami finally manages, voice strained.

"Sure," Daichi says, reaching over to shove his friend off of her, ignoring his protesting flail. "So what do you guys need fixed with your ship?"

Kalani grimaces. "Long story short: _everything_."

**DAICHI JOINED YOUR PARTY**

["Wait a second," PLAYER ONE realizes with a slow frown. "I could leave now. There's no reason for me to stay and defeat Chernabog." Because, well, that's pretty clearly the direction this world is going in.

_100% completion_, the game beckons you metaphorically.

You sigh spectacularly and start walking through the Districts. Your own obsession is going to be the death of you.]

+x+

"Holy shit, you weren't kidding," Daichi says quietly before raising his voice for their benefit. "Alright, you guys just – uh, pull up a crate to sit on, or something. I'll get to work."

Manami grabs a nearby empty box and pulls it up, perching on the edge of it. She takes her helmet off again, fiddling with the strap this time, while Kalani pulls up a much heavier crate of his own to sit on. She feels a little silly – it's her fault the ship is like this, of course.

Daichi makes it through about 10 seconds of silence before he starts chattering away while he works. "So what world are you guys from?" he hums, voice just louder than the clang of metal. "Assuming that your world wasn't, like, eaten by darkness or something. Russ says that happens sometimes. I think Leon's world was like that before Master Sora saved the worlds, but that was before my time, you know? And Leon's kind of scary, so I've never asked him to his face. He kind of gives off a murder vibe. But maybe that's just me."

"I'm from Destiny Islands," Kalani interrupts.

"Oh, cool! What's that like? I mean, other than an island. Duh."

Kalani clears his throat and Daichi falls silent. "It's…" For all his eagerness to get on subject he trails off, apparently lost for words. "I'm not sure how to explain it. It's just an island. There's nothing really specially about it – well, maybe the sunset. We're surrounded by water and when the sun sets, the whole water changes color, not just the part near the sun."

Daichi sighs when Kalani falls silent again. "I wish I could see it," he says, voice quiet. His movements are stilted – but then, unlike Kalani, Daichi doesn't move around a lot when he talks, so Manami's not sure if that means anything or not. "What about you, uh, what's your name again – "

"Manami," she says, voice soft. She hesitates for a moment. "My world was named Academy Aqueous."

"Aw, man, you grew up in a school? _Gross_."

"Not really. The arrangement of the universe when my world was still around was…different. Everything was much more closely connected. You could hop between worlds with ease, especially between the Schools, since they were so tightly connected."

Daichi pauses. "You talk about it like it's gone."

Manami hangs her head. "There was a war."

Kalani stares at her for a moment, but apparently something in her eyes drives him because he looks up and starts to speak. "Whenever a world falls into darkness, one or two people with particularly strong hearts will be turned into what's called a summon gem, where their heart is preserved until someone with enough magic comes along to heal them. Manami turned into one of those when her world disappeared." He twiddles his fingers together. "I didn't know about a war, though. Sorry, Nam."

"It's not your fault," she says, pulling harshly on the chin strap of her helmet. "Anyway, it's finished now."

"I'm sorry," Daichi apologizes, and she's…_pretty_ sure that's sincere. "But you guys are travelling, right? Maybe you'll find a way to bring it back."

Manami snorts. "Thank you for the attempted comfort, but I assure you that that's impossible."

"How come?" Daichi asks, pushing out from under the ship to look at her, eyebrows raised.

Manami stares at her hands, movements suddenly, painfully still. "When you're a summon gem," she say, voice low, "time doesn't pass, because you have no consciousness. You can live hundreds of years and still come out the other side only 15 years old."

Kalani stares, like it's slowly hitting him. "You were a summon gem," he says, "for hundreds of years?"

She hesitates. "…three thousand, actually."

There's a moment of awed silence. "Wait," Daichi says suddenly, "you said a war – you don't mean - ?"

"The First Keyblade War?" She snorts. "Yes."

Kalani lets out a low whistle. "_Damn_."

Manami's more than a little desperate to get the conversation off of her. "What about you? Your world is unique. Don't you enjoy yourself here?"

Daichi pauses for a long moment before letting the subject drop. "Yeah, I guess," he says, voice quieter than before. "I dunno, I just – want to see what's out there, you know?" He laughs out loud. "My little sis, Hikari, when we were kids I used to take her to Gramps' shop at the end of town – that's where we learned how to work with gummi ships, you know, that was his whole line of work – and I'd make up adventures, and one day she just dropped and made me promise that one day we'd go on real adventures. 'Not this kid stuff', that's what she said. Ridiculous. But, you know, once the worlds opened up – there's a real chance. Adventure's out there. Traverse Town's great and all, but I've been here my whole life. I'm ready for more." He giggles, voice a little too high pitched. "You probably don't care about all that, though."

"Actually, it's quite interesting," Manami prompts. Mostly she just likes listening to him talk – the cadence of his voice is easier to decipher than most people's, easier for her to dissect the intentions of, and all she's found so far has been kindness. Kalani's straight faced, though, with a shimmer in his eye that makes her think he's thinking about his own siblings.

"So you live with your grandpa?" Kalani prompts, ducking his head so his expression is out of her sight.

Daichi nods. "My parents are in jail for, uh," he mutters something that sounds suspiciously similar to 'abuse', "so me and Hikari live with Grandpa Abner. He was retired until the worlds reconnected and he got into the gummi ship business. Me and her have been learning the trade from him since we were little."

"It sounds like you love your sister a lot," Kalani comments.

Daichi smiles brightly as he nods. "Yeah, she's basically my whole life." There is a pause before he jumps. "Shit, I'm supposed to be fixing your ship. I got distracted, sorry, that, uh, that happens – "

"It's no big deal," Kalani says.

Manami's already standing though, strapping her helmet back on. "Hang on," she says, ignoring the way both the boys turn to look at her. "Is that Chernabog over there?"

The other two heads turn. "Yeah, that's him," Daichi offers. "Satanic asshole. But what's that behind – _shit_!" He jumps up, gaping, eyebrows knit together. "What's Gramps doing over there?"

Kalani's standing up next to her before Daichi can even finish his sentence. "Probably? Raise the dead. Or something." He stops talking for a moment to squint closer at the giant monster across the way. "Uh, that blonde chick next to him would be…?"

Daichi's skin is all flushed now as he stands up, scowling. "That's Hikari," he says, voice so low it's almost a growl. "That son of a bitch has my little sister."

"Son of a what?"

"Not now, Manami!" Kalani says, and Manami shrinks into herself. Kalani stops himself, opens his mouth, and then closes it again, turning away from her completely. "Okay, can you fight?"

"Yeah, there's this, uh – this weapon," Daichi begins.

"No," Manami interrupts, "you are _not_ allowed to use a Keyblade. Choose a different weapon. I'll explain why later," she adds at his look.

"You're a Keyblade wielder?" Kalani demands, staring the other boy in the eye. Daichi's eyes avert to the sky, wringing his wrists one at a time. "The hell didn't you tell us for?"

"It's not something that comes up in casual conversation, okay?" Daichi mutters. "Just – shit, okay, gimme a sec – " He digs deep into his belt before coming up with a long stick with a chain on the end, a spiked metal ball swinging from it. "Ah, man, I forgot about this. Gramps put it in here for emergencies, but I didn't think I'd ever need it."

"A chigiriki," Manami recognizes immediately. Aure had favored that weapon, too, though ultimately she'd leant much more on her regular sword. "That'll do nicely. Come on, let's get to it."

+x+

[The phone rings when you're about halfway through the boss battle.

You hesitate for a long moment, trying to decide whether to go grab it or not. On one hand, if it's important you're going to regret leaving it there, but on the other hand –

Chernabog is difficult to beat, alright?

PLAYER THREE waits for about five minutes of listening to the phone ring before giving up, right when you finally go to check who it is – and, when you return, realize that the game hadn't paused.

"_Mother – !"_]

+x+

Manami decides about halfway through the battle that there's no way they're going to defeat Chernabog – or at least, not at this particular moment. The best they can hope to do for now is annoy him a little. Luckily Kalani's skills with his kama and her own with her kanabō are more than enough to make up for Daichi's clear lack of practice with his own weapon (though to be fair, he probably hasn't ever had reason to practice before). Sure, they won't be able to destroy him, but hopefully they can bother him enough that he decides it isn't worth the effort.

Which seems to be his final decision when he flies off in distaste. Immediately, Daichi rushes forward to help a wizened old man to a stand. A girl about two years younger than him pulls him into a bear hug the moment he's let his grandfather go, and he manages an embarrassed smile at his two new acquaintances over her shoulder.

Then the black monsters start showing up.

"Heartless?" Kalani asks, drawing his weapons back out from where he'd put them away – but no, Manami recognizes _these _monsters, and she figures it out just fast enough to grab his shoulder and pull back, before it takes a huge bite at him.

"Unversed," she corrects him, and then – pulling Abner's arm over her shoulder to help him move – "Run!"

The going is slow, which is mostly Abner's fault (age rarely grants speed), but her three other companions seem so concerned for him that she's loathe to move his arm from around her shoulder. The constant stream of Unversed attacking while they move is no help, since Kalani's the only one not helping one of two kidnapees and, as such, the only one capable of fighting the monsters off. They make it back to Leon's place eventually anyway, Hikari and Daichi collapsing together onto the couch as she helps Abner sit as gently as possible.

"Thank you," he says courteously. He's clearly in his 70's or 80's, with a great shock of white hair and half-crazed blue eyes – Aure's eyes, the ones both Daichi and apparently Hikari inherited. Then, interested, "Do you have any chocolate, per chance?"

Um. "No, sir," she says politely, respect for elders too heavily ingrained for her to show surprise at the question. "Would you like me to go out and get some for you?"

"Yes, please," Abner nods. Manami moves to leave, but Kalani grabs her arm before she can.

"Are you crazy?" he manages; his whole appearance is haggard, and he's taken his beanie off for the time being. He keeps glancing at the save point out of the corner of his eye. "_Satan himself_ is out there!"

Manami wrinkles her nose. "He left," she points out.

"But he could come back!" Even she can tell that he sounds halfway to hysterical.

"If need be, I can hold him off long enough for me to get back inside," she says, like it's obvious. "I've had enough training to combat a single monster."

"It's no big deal," Abner mutters, though he's completely ignored.

Kalani groans, rubbing his eyes. "Christ, Manami. Just give me three minutes and we can go out _together_."

"You guys should probably wait out until Ruslan gets back, at least," Daichi offers, finally piping up from his seat. They both look over at him. Now that they're sitting next to each other, the similarities between him and his sister are almost scary. Their eyes are identically colored, though Hikari's are thinner; their facial structure is the same right down to the pointed chin; their hair is obscenely thick, even though Daichi's is black while Hikari's is light brown. Even their noses are the same. Frankly, it's freaking Manami out a little bit. "He should be able to help us figure out what to do next."

Manami sighs, crossing her arms. Kalani manages a jerky nod.

They both refuse to look at each other.

+x+

About ten minutes and a save point later, Kalani leads Manami and Daichi up the stairs, where they walk in on Rinoa and Leon…eating.

"You guys are alive!" Rinoa perks up. "Here, you should come taste this. Russ makes the best tortillas."

"We thought you might've gotten caught by Chernabog," Leon says, looking far less enthusiastic about his own cheesy meal. "I was going to come look for you if you took any longer." He stares blankly at the flatbread before him. Manami wonders if he wishes they'd taken longer, just to get him out of there. He looks small, at the table before him, out of place, like a thousand dollar antique in a store with tourist trinkets. She rubs her arms subconsciously. "Anyway, what happened?"

Daichi immediately explodes into speech, recounting the entire tale piece by piece, every minor battle relayed in explicit detail. While he talks Ruslan slides into the room, taking a seat near Leon. Manami shivers.

"…so then we left Gramps and Hikari downstairs," Daichi finishes, lips tugging up at the corners, "and we came up here so we could figure out what to do next."

Leon hums before turning to Manami, looking her straight in the eye. "You called them the Unversed?" he prompts.

Manami nods. Her arms are crossed where she leans against the wall; her helmet is safely in place, and even the knowledge of its presence calms her, if only a little. "There are two parts to a heart – positive emotions and negative emotions. Some beings, like Chernabog, have hearts made only of negative emotions. When that happens, they create beings called Unversed, which are the emotions they feel in a corporeal form. We used to train with tamer versions of them."

"So what's their goal? Increase their ranks?" Leon asks, leaning back in his chair.

She shakes her head. "I don't understand why all of the monsters you face seem to have goals," she confesses. "As I said, Unversed are negative emotions. Let's say one of them is jealousy. It sees you, it wants your weapon. Or your hair. Or anything else about you that it finds worthy of use. It wouldn't _take_ it; it would destroy you, so that no one could have it. This is all they know – to destroy anything that applies to their own emotion; in short, to destroy _everything_."

Leon nods, slow, a gleam coming to his eye like a sun in a valley of snow. "Sounds dangerous," he says.

"Very," she agrees.

"Let's go fight some."

"Leon!" Rinoa scolds, swatting his elbow; he sinks back in his chair, sulking. "We have to watch in case anyone else gets lost on the streets. But…we _do_ need more information on them, if we're going to have to fight them." She sends Russ an apologetic look. "Could you go out and gather some information for us?"

"Sure," Russ grins, nodding so that his hair flops in his eyes. "Okay, so me, Kalani, and Daichi'll go out to check 'em out while Manami stays here and takes care of Hikari and Abner. All opposed, say – "

"I'm opposed," Manami offers immediately. "You have no idea how to fight these things. I do. I should go – "

"Oh, get back in the kitchen," Ruslan snorts, and she may not understand social cues very well but even she can recognize pure hostility.

Not that it makes sense in that particular context. "What?"

"I said," he says, "get back in the kitchen."

"I don't understand."

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Rinoa looks like she's about to slap him. "What don't you understand?"

"Where would a kitchen factor into this equation? The Unversed are outside. Kitchens are entirely lacking pertinence to our current conversation. For that matter, you've already made food. Saying 'get _back_ in the kitchen' connotes that I have already been in the kitchen at some point, which I have not, so your phrasing doesn't make sense. The only person who could get back in the kitchen here is you, as you are the only one to recently participate in any kitchen-related activities." There's a pause where she takes in Kalani's blinding grin and Rinoa's smirk. "Did I say something?"

"He wasn't literally telling you to go the kitchen," Leon says, unreadable. "He was talking about traditional gender roles."

"Oh." She pauses, eyebrows furrowing. "But – that _still_ doesn't make sense, because my gender also isn't a factor in this equation. Neither Chernabog nor the Unversed care or, for that matter, even know about my gender, considering they are for all purposes agender beings and probably have no concept of gender itself. And I'm not sure what you mean by 'traditional' gender roles. Is it a tradition specific to a culture? Or are you addressing it as 'traditional' in the context of it always having been so? Because I assure you that you are misinformed if that's what you believe." Her nose wrinkles. "I'm afraid you're going to have to explain this to me step-by-step, please," she says politely before pulling up a chair and watching Ruslan patiently.

Ruslan, who looks a little gobsmacked. "Just – " He manages a soft huff of frustration through his nose. "You're making fun of me!"

She blinks. "I assure you, I'm not. The customs of this world, as with all worlds, differ from the ideals I'm used to. It's important to me to understand the systems of belief inherent to this world, lest I never understand the world itself."

Daichi puts a hand on her shoulder. When she looks up, he has a smile he's clearly forcing down, enough so that even _she _can see it clearly. "It's not an inherent belief," he assures her. "It's just Russ." Then, to everyone, "So long story short, me, Kalani, and Manami will go, and _Russ_ will stay here."

"But - !" Ruslan protests.

"Sounds good," Leon says, and there's that glint again, in the core of his eye, in the core of _him_. "We'll meet you back here when you've got some more information on them."

+x+

Kalani lets out a breathless chuckle the most they get out the door, and Daichi laughs so hard he has to slide down the wall. Manami manages a hesitant smile at their clear happiness, but it fades quickly in favor of confusion. "I don't understand what's so funny," she clarifies, face one giant question mark.

Kalani shakes his head and puts a hand on her shoulder, beaming brightly. "Nothing," he reassures.

Paranoia sets in. "Are you laughing at me?"

Kalani stops laughing altogether at that, face going serious. "Of course not," he says. "We were laughing at your conversation with Russ."

There's a long pause as she processes this. "Oh," she says, suspicion still creeping into her voice. They're not _technically_ laughing at her…right?"

"Mostly, we're laughing at Russ," Daichi promises, and she finally relaxes, allowing her shoulders to sag a little. "I mean, the guy's my best friend, but Christ, that was _gorgeous_."

"He's kind of a dick," Kalani snorts as the three of them begin walking. Manami trails behind the two boys, slightly bemused.

"Everyone has their flaws," Daichi shrugs, smiling easily. "Russ' just happens to be internalized prejudice. I mean, the dude's white, cis, straight, middle class…"

"Basically every group in power in the history of the universe," Kalani snorts. Daichi nods.

"It's not his fault," the younger boy says, shrugging easily. "But it still happens, you know? I've just learned to dealt with." He smiles lightly. "Hikari's taken to throwing whatever she happens to be holding at him when he's misogynistic. It gets entertaining." He turns to look at Manami over his shoulder, offering a blinding smile that she returns awkwardly. "You did good."

"But I didn't do anything," she says, puzzled, before Kalani lets out a hiss.

"Okay, play time's over," he says, pulling out his kama as Unversed begin to trod over. Daichi grabs his chigiriki out of his tool belt at the same time Manami pulls her kanabō from its magical holding place. "Time to get serious."

"Fuck _yes_," Daichi grins before the three of them go to town.

+x+

"So," Kalani reports when they get all the way to the third district, "information we've gathered so far: undomesticated Unversed are highly vulnerable to lethal weapons." He pauses. "Well, that sounds like enough to me. Let's head back."

Manami glances around idly. "There doesn't seem to be much necessary observation, does there?" she observes. "What with them attacking us on sight and all. We haven't even got a good look at their appearance yet."

"Aw, you've trained with 'em," Daichi dismisses. "You can draw them from memory or something. Anyway, it's not so important we know about them as we know how to kill them."

"I suppose you're right." Still, it feels strange, killing something without understanding it fully first. Even back on her world, the Unversed hadn't been fully dissected when –

Anyway.

"We should go report in, then," she agrees finally, slinging her kanabō over her shoulder. "We've at least cleared off the roads enough that we should be able to purchase your grandfather some chocolate on the way back. Do you think he – "

"Kalani!" Daichi shouts, and Manami turns sharply, eyes widening at the sight before her.

Kalani – is not Kalani anymore, he's choking on his own spit, there are tears trailing down his cheeks, but they're not what they should be, the air smells of saltwater and he shouldn't be crying salt, the tracks down his face shouldn't be staining red so hard they flare off his face.

Manami knows a possession when she sees one.

"Get back!" she shouts. Daichi stands perfectly still for a moment, so she grabs his elbow and jerks him away just before Kalani falls to his knees and presses his palms on his ears, screaming inhumanly high, face screwed up in agony.

He opens his eyes and they are gold.

Then they're brown again and he's gasping, steam rising from the pair of fading lines on his face, dulling from a vibrant red to a dark brown and, finally, a solid black, where the steam ceases to rise and the imprints – perhaps permanent – seem to settle into his face. He falls fully to the ground, curling into a ball. Manami immediately rushes to his side, reaching out to touch him, hands halting nervously above his torso as she considers what to do. Finally he manages a shaky groan and she turns him over, watching his dull, unfocused eyes.

"The hell just happened?" Daichi demands, and she finally notices him crouched on the other side of Kalani, the edge of his fingers just brushing the clearly unconscious boy's shoulder.

"Someone just tried to possess him," she says darkly before looking up, to her left and then her right. "We need to get him somewhere safe. Unversed might attack us at any time out here."

As if to prove her point, a trio of the beings shimmer into existence a few feet away, clicking their monstrous tongues. Daichi stands slowly, instinctively reaching for the handle of his chigiriki, as though he's been a soldier his whole rather than for the last couple of hours. "You carry Kalani, I'll protect you both from the Unversed," he says. "Sound like a plan?"

"We'll never make it," she mutters, calculating the route in her head, but they can't stay here so she hefts Kalani up anyway, sliding one hand under his knee and the other under his neck so that she carries him like a husband and their bride. Maybe, if they sprint the whole way there –

No. They won't make it. It's impossible.

What they need is a miracle.

Luckily, those seem to be especially common these days. "Hey, you!" a man shouts from his doorway; he must've opened it while they were bent over Kalani, for Manami to not notice him. Frankly the thought's slightly troubling. "He looks like he needs medical help!"

"That's the goal, yes," Daichi calls back, something akin to hope in his voice.

There's a short pause as the man deciphers that. "Well, get in here, then," he finally calls, stepping aside to allow them room, and Manami doesn't even bother with a mental once over of the guy before she's dashing into his house, Daichi slamming the door behind the two of them just before the Unversed can get in.

In contrast to the chaotic panic she'd felt outside, the man's house is a quiet slice of comfort. A fire crackles invitingly in the next room over, and she steps carefully over a few dirty clothes messily arranged on the floor, picking her way out to the plump green sofa, where she carefully lays Kalani on his back, facing upward. His eyes have finally closed. That's good; if he can move his eyelids that means he hasn't been paralyzed, or at least hasn't been _fully_ paralyzed. His breathing has evened out, too, a slow charge compared to the frantic hyperventilating he'd had earlier. In the back of her mind, she notes Daichi and the man speaking to one another in low voices. No doubt they're introducing themselves. But she can't focus on that; she has to make sure Kalani's chest hasn't collapsed, ensure that the attempted possession doesn't have any long-lasting side effects.

"Manami," Daichi says in a hushed voice, watching her as she checks to make sure his pulse is even. "This is Noctis. He's a traveler who came to help with Chernabog."

"The name sounds familiar," she mutters without looking up. Gently, tentatively, she presses a finger to Kalani's cheek; the boy winces instinctively away from her but she comes away successful, a dusting of black transferred to her finger. She sniffs it and her eyes widen. "Ash," she mutters, then turns to look at his face, realization coming slow, like a sunrise in the winter. "They weren't tears. He was crying fire."

"That sounds terrifying," Daichi says, voice sounding small. "What does that mean?"

"First of all, it means he has second degree burns at the _least_, and he may never get rid of the scars," she asserts. Noctis. Where does she know that name from? "Second of all, it means that the possession must've been by a Keyblade wielder for it to take that much power. The flame specifically tells us that it was a Fire wielder."

"A what?" Daichi frowns.

She pauses. Ah, yes, she forgot. Things are different now. "Keyblade wielders are classified in one of four classes: water, air, earth, and fire."

"The four elements."

She nods. "According to Sora and Kalani, only water, air, and earth played vital parts in the – " She catches herself just before she says _prophecy_. That'd be a lot more explaining than necessary at this exact moment. "In the reconnection of the worlds. I had assumed this meant that the line of fire wielders had died out." She pauses, hands shaking. "Apparently I was wrong."

Daichi nods, slow, processing the information. "So…someone tried to possess him?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Easy; because he's a Keyblade wielder. That degree of power is incredibly dangerous in the right hands. The real question is…" She pauses, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Why did they _leave_?"

The silence is almost deadly after that. She sighs and pulls back from where she'd been checking on her, uh, partner. Though it'll take a more thorough checkup to ensure that there's no long term damage, for the moment everything vital seems to be working. Time to look into what she can do about those burns. She glances around for a moment; since this will likely take a while, it'd be best to have some sort of magically transferring object so that she doesn't have to hold her hands on his cheeks for hours. In the corner of the room she spots a mask hanging on the wall. "Grab me that," she says, nudging Daichi with her elbow. Immediately he scurries over to grab it off the rack it hangs from. She spares a moment to hope Noctis is okay with them magically vandalizing his property.

_Noctis_. Where does she know that name from?

The mask is beautiful in its simplicity, painted red on one half and white on the other, with a big black block surrounding the eyeholes. Though made entirely of lines and rectangles, the image seems meaningful somehow. She shakes her head for a moment before putting her mouth to the mouth hole of the mask, whispering "_Curaga_" into the very fibers of its material before immediately whispering "_Stopra_", halting the time continuum surrounding it for only a few minutes. Quietly she brushes the ash off Kalani's face, drawing back each time he winces. It looks like a third degree burn, deep enough that it's fried his nerves so that he can't feel pain. Though the thought horrifies her, she's a little grateful that he can't feel what's happening to him now. Finally, when his face is clear, she places the mask gently on his face and whispers the counter-spell, allowing time to tick around the mask once more.

She sits back on her heels, back facing the fire, suddenly exhausted. It was necessary to use the highest level of healing she has – not everyone can rely on godlike powers every time they cast a simple spell – and regular _stop_ wouldn't have kept the mask frozen long enough for her to clean Kalani's face. The energy it's sapped from her is almost mind-blowing, though. She suddenly quite feels like a nap.

"Ask him his last name," she says suddenly, tiredly, because maybe _that's_ where she recognizes the name Noctis from.

"What," Daichi says, because. What.

"Noctis. Go ask him his surname."

"Uh – " Daichi pauses a moment, glancing between Kalani and Manami, before he shrugs and walks off. "Hey, Noct!" he shouts as he walks.

Manami can feel herself swaying on the balls of her feet, exhaustion pounding at her. She has to stay awake. She has to stay awake. She has to…

She just manages to make it to the reclining chair before she falls into the cushions, snoring softly.

+x+

She wakes up hyperventilating.

For a moment, she blindly wonders where Pyralis is (because they had _just _been sparring and then the sparring had turned to warring and she stank of death and her mouth tasted of blood) before reality hits her and she remembers Pyralis is dead and the war is over and there's no death here, just Kalani and Daichi staring at her funny. The thought of death calms her in a horrible way, because at least that means there's no fighting going on right now. The war is over. The war is done. She's safe here.

Which makes her feel guilty as hell (of all the people to survive), but there's no controlling that.

"Are you okay?" asks a tall, brown-haired man – the one that had beckoned them inside, she remembers faintly as the surreal feeling fades and her rationale realigns itself. "You look kind of sick."

She swallows. "I'm fine. Just a nightmare." She sits up in the seat to look at Kalani, frowning worriedly; he's still wearing the mask but he's clearly awake, eyeing her. "Are you alright?"

He jerks his head up and down in an insincere nod. "The healing's stopped," he says, voice soft, "but I'm kind of afraid of what I'm going to see." She nods sympathetically. Who knows how bad the scarring might be – or how _permanent_ it might be? "Daichi said someone tried to possess me. Is there any way to figure out who it was?"

Manami shakes her head. "If we'd checked immediately after the attempt, possibly, but the trail will be gone by now. Anyway, it would've been exceptionally painful."

"Right." Kalani takes a deep breath. "Okay, here goes nothing." With shaky hands he reaches up to the mask, pulling it up gently, shutting his eyes as he discards it on the side table, wincing a little at Daichi's intake of breath at the sight before him.

"Okay so I know you're going to think they look horrible but you actually look _super_ badass," Daichi says. Manami can _kind_ of see that – though they form a basic line, the angry red marks seem to be stretching out towards the sides of his face, thin lines intertwining with each other and the middle and looping out and back into the main stream of color. They look sort of like a mark of honor or whatever. Mostly they just look really, _really_ painful.

"Do they hurt?" she asks, voice quiet and more than a little cowed.

"No." He pauses. "Thank you for that."

She shrugs uncomfortably. "Here – I'll go get you a mirror," Noctis says, jumping a little as he knocks himself out of whatever reverie he'd been in. Manami feels kind of bad for him; he tries to do a good deed and ends up having to deal with _this_. At least he and Daichi seem friendly, from the way Daichi nods encouragingly at him. She guesses they must've talked while she'd been sleeping. Noctis hurries back in and hands an ornate hand mirror to Kalani, who takes one glance at himself before sinking his head into the pillow and groaning.

"My family's gonna _flip_," he mutters, closing his eyes and breathing deeply through his nose.

"It's not so bad," Daichi begins hesitantly, immediately receiving a glare. "Okay, so it's pretty bad. But at least it's only on part of your face, right?"

"Yeah. Fantastic. What a bright side." Daichi winces at Kalani's sarcastic tone. "God, the only thing that could make this day worse is – "

"Don't say that!" Daichi hisses.

"What?"

"Haven't you ever seen movies? As soon as you say 'the only thing that could make this day worse,' the thing that would make this day worse _happens_. It's just like when they say 'at least it's not raining.' You just don't fuck with fate like that, man."

Noctis and Manami exchange exasperated looks. "Anyway," Noctis says, "it's nice to meet you, Kalani. I'm Noctis."

Kalani frowns a little but shakes the hand the man proffers anyway. "That name sounds familiar," he mutters, drawing his arm back.

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

"Okay, so!" Daichi says. "Now that you" – he nods at Kalani – "need a distraction and we're trapped in here until Chernabog leaves, since he's in this District again, I'd say now is a great time for a conference. Could you give us a moment, Noct?" Noctis smiles lightly before leaving the room. Distantly, Manami can hear an oven turning on. Daichi's casual smile becomes more fixed in place. "First order of business, then." Then, coldly, "Manami let slip earlier that you guys are Keyblade wielders."

There is a long pause as Manami reviews their conversation from earlier – "_that's easy; he's a keyblade wielder_" – before all the color drains from her face. Daichi nods, expression schooled into something more serious now, something borderline deadly. "That's what I thought. So do you guys want to explain to me why you didn't tell me? And don't try to turn this on me – there's a difference between something never coming up in conversation and explicitly lying about it."

Hypothetically she knows he's right, but she still feels a little bitter about it. "I'm surprised you didn't figure it out on your own," she says, voice matching his in coolness but gentler somehow. "I mentioned being part of the – " She winces instinctively. "The First Keyblade War," she forces herself to say. "But as for why we lied to you, we do have an explanation. When we met you, we had yet to understand the nature of this world. It was entirely possible that the Keyblade was known as a weapon of impossible destruction here, in which case we wouldn't be able to help with Chernabog. At any rate, the Keyblade is a dangerous force of nature, so to utilize it could've been fatal both to the world and its citizens."

"And we were going to tell you once we got back," Kalani adds hastily, and Manami feels a little better knowing it isn't just her that's totally fabricating an explanation. "Trust among wielders, you know? But we thought it'd be easier if we just told everybody at once." He glances at Manami and holds her gaze there, pleading some imperceptible thing that she knows, instinctively, has known since she first recognized Aure's eyes on Daichi's face, because it always comes down to 3 rather than 2, in the end. She manages an imperceptible nod, and Kalani carefully begins to speak. "We were actually going to ask you to come travel with us."

Daichi sits straight up in his chair. "You – really?"

Kalani nods. "Professor T – or, shit, you know him as Master Sora – was kidnapped a little while ago. We're on a quest to find him and bring him back safely." He offers the younger boy a small smile. "And clearly neither of _us_ can drive the gummi ship. But you can. And you have plenty of other useful skills, too."

Daichi's eyes _shine_. He's on the verge of saying yes, she can tell. So she decides to add some things now. "But there are some things you need to be aware of before you make your decision," she says, and Kalani nods approvingly at her. "There are a lot of things at stake here. We can go over it later, when your family is in the room." She gets the feeling that unlike Kalani, Daichi will at least need a grudging approval from his grandfather before he runs off with two kids he's never met before. "Which means that we need to get going. Kalani, can you fight? It looks like we'll have to drive Chernabog away again before we can retrieve other fighters to help with him. Though I'm sure Noctis is more than capable of fighting, I think everyone will feel better if there's plenty of backup."

Kalani nods, sitting up and stretching, back cracking slightly as he moves. "Yeah. Where, uh, where's my kama?"

"You dropped them back when you got almost-possessed. I picked 'em up when you guys were asleep. They're on the kitchen counter." Daichi stands, smiling giddily, and she notes with a sinking feeling that his choice is already made – that she'll have his companionship, which she admits will be nice, but also that another soldier's been enlisted, another casualty in another war. She tries to shake that line of thinking off. It'll lead her nowhere good.

But still.

It's hard to live in a perpetual war, and neither of them will ever understand.

+x+

They decide that the best way to go after Chernabog is to all go at him at once. Daichi immediately orders Noctis to stay inside, tells him he'll need his strength for the real battle, later. Noctis reluctantly agrees but makes it perfectly clear that he'll be watching from the window.

Which is why Manami feels vaguely stalked when she edges out into the street, carefully keeping out of Chernabog's line of sight as she searches for where best to strike first. The monster is doing – well, she isn't sure what, but it's definitely causing a lot of screaming in that tenement building. "I don't like this," she mutters to Kalani, who's sliding down the bricks next to her. "We need as much cover as we can get it."

"We can do it," he says firmly, and when she looks over she's surprised to realize that for once, she can completely decipher his thoughts – and he really, truly believes what he's saying. "We'll be fine."

She hesitates and then turns to look at Chernabog again. "Whatever you say," she mutters, and finally all three of them are in good positions. "Okay," she mutters under her breath, tasting the word before stepping forward. Chernabog catches sight of her almost immediately, angry narrow eyes glaring; a wall of Unversed appear between them and him. "Let's go!" she calls, and they spring into action.

**YOU HAVE TWO MINUTES TO DEFEAT ALL THE UNVERSED**

[_"ARE YOU FUCKING_ – "]

They make it. Barely.

But then there's Chernabog to face, and they're all already tired. "Okay," Kalani mutters, swaying on his feet. "Let's. Hnng. Let's go."

So they prepare to battle him, because what else can they do?

This battle doesn't last long, though. Just when they're starting to wear him down – and just when Manami's kanabō is starting to feel too heavy to be real – he lets out a roar and focuses his gaze on her before managing a giant ball of dark magic. She knows, without a doubt, that she is going to die.

He fires his ball of oblivion and she braces herself before she hears someone shout _"No!_" and a silent explosion shoots her into the nearby wall. Her shoulder makes a _whack_ as she feels something slide out of place and she shouts in pain, falling to her knees.

The world rattles and slides off its own edges, she almost slips off of it, oh god she's going to vomit – no, okay, no, she's okay, she just. Remember her training, she needs to remember what to do in a situation like this.

She takes a deep breath to calm herself.

Okay. Okay. Assess the situation. First – shoulder.

Not broken. Maybe sprained. Most likely dislocated. Good. Easy fix.

Step two.

Where did _that_ come from?

She looks up, wincing at the pain in her arm at any sort of movement, and takes in a wide-eyed Daichi sitting on his knees, looking at Kalani, who is standing, totally gobsmacked, in the middle of the square.

"Dude," Daichi begins cautiously, and both of his companions turn to look at him. "The hell was _that_?" He glances around. "And where did Chernabog go?"

Kalani pauses a moment before, voice halting, he says, "I altered his association in the spaciotemporal continuum so that it's ensured he'll be defeated, in such a way that it establishes and completes necessary timeloops."

There's a long pause. "You sent him back in time," Daichi deciphers.

Kalani's shaking his head before Daichi's halfway through. "No, that's not it," he says. "If you _send_ someone through time, then you're altering their _position_, which creates loss of messy paradox stuff. I altered his _association_. So instead of moving him, I moved the time."

They both stare for a moment. Then Manami starts to laugh.

It starts out a halfway to hysterical giggle, brought on by stress and confusion, but it quickly morphs into a caw similar to a hyena, loud and unabashed and kind of scary, to be honest. The two boys are staring at her but she doesn't care, they had their turn to laugh for no reason earlier and it's her turn now – and laugh she does, hard, for a long time, until her shoulder aches so hard her arm collapses under her weight and she has to lean on her elbow.

When she's finally calm, tears on the verge of spilling from her eyes, she manages a raspy "Praise the gods you exist" before she falls flat on her stomach.

She notices vaguely her two friends hefting her up so that they're carrying her and she thinks she hears a distant "Dude, you're kind of a god" from Daichi, and she can see a blur she recognizes as Noctis in the corner of eye, but mostly she just stops thinking.

+x+

"This is going to hurt," Leon warns, and promptly shoves her shoulder back into place.

She howls but calms down fast, gritting her teeth as she forces herself to take deep breaths. Nobody turns to look. Rinoa is busy quizzing Kalani and Noctis on what exactly happened – "_Wait, you mean the time Sora fought Chernabog was because - ?" "Oh, shit"_ – and Daichi is talking in excited tones to Hikari, who's nodding, face impartial. Ruslan is gently persuading Abner of something on the sofa. The whole room is alight and alive. Even Leon's been uncharacteristically happy – though Manami feels as though that's more about the big Keyblade Wielders Are We reveal than anything else.

Nobody comments on Kalani's new scars. Daichi had muttered something furtive about blindness earlier, but Hikari had shushed him and glanced around before starting a new topic of conversation.

Mostly, they're all pretty satisfied with the day. Noctis has graduated to talking about what he'll do now – "Probably go check on things back home and go out searching again. Lots of worlds need help" – and Daichi has begun enthusiastically replaying Kalani's impromptu burst of magic earlier to anyone who'll listen – "And then, _boom_, Manami's arm hit the wall so hard it got shoved out of its socket. I got away with only a stubbed toe. But in my defense, it was a very _painful_ stubbed toe."

She leans back and breaths deep through her nose. "You good?" Leon asks, voice low. She manages a weak thumbs up in his direction. "Good. Don't fall asleep. Kalani mentioned something about Daichi and travelling."

She tries to talk but it comes out more like "Alurgeblech," which he seems to take as assent because he stands and makes his way over to his fiancé. He whispers something in her ear that makes her turn bright red, and the two of them leave the room, shooting Russ a look that sends him scurrying off out the other door. Noctis seems to take the hint on his own and makes his way out, muttering something about calling his wife. Finally, Kalani, Manami, Daichi, and Daichi's family are the only ones in the room.

"Alright," Kalani say, and immediately the other four heads turn to look at him; his magical outburst hasn't seemed to wear him out the way Manami's magic does with her. Rather, his voice is underlined by some sort of unimaginable power. "So, Daichi. Let's talk about you travelling with us."

Daichi nods, face falling serious again. "You explained about not using the Keyblade," he says, voice low – adding, at Manami's raised eyebrows, "When you were asleep." She nods, face falling flat again. "But you said that isn't the only thing I need to know about. So what's up?"

Manami and Kalani exchange glances. "There are certain things you need to know about worlds before you travel to them," Manami begins, voice low and dead serious. "Most specifically, you need to be prepared for everything. I understand you're expecting villains and trials, in the spirit of your own adventurous ideals, but that is not what I refer to when I say _everything_."

"What do you mean?" Daichi asks. "What could you guys know about them that I don't?"

"You gotta remember," Kalani interrupts, "I've been training for the last half year or so with the only known guy to go to more than 100 worlds, and Manami grew up in a universe where world travel was an everyday thing. We're kind of experts."

Manami nods in agreement. "What you know about the worlds, Daichi, is limited to its surface – but every world is unique in many different ways. Some worlds, due to the gravitational pull of having multiple worlds surrounding it, will have gravity that switches constantly, so that you might be standing on the floor one second and fall down on a wall the next. Some worlds completely ignore some laws of physics. Some ignore _all_ laws of physics. There are worlds that live in perpetual night, like this one, since a sun is so far away and other worlds around it must reflect the sun's beams keep it alive. There are some worlds close enough to a sun that they live in perpetual day. There are some worlds that cycle through day and night. If you are to travel with us, you must be prepared to accept all of these eventualities unphased.

"But not all of these are good things." The grin that's slowly grown on his face falls a little at the words. "It is not only spacial properties that can change between worlds. There is also the progression of time.

"Just a different worlds have varying relations to the laws of physics, they also have varying relations to the laws of time. Let's assume, for now, that time in Traverse Town moves at a rate of one second per second. It's entirely possible that Destiny Islands, in comparison, moves at a rate of one hour per second. The inhabitants wouldn't notice; to them, it would still seem one second per second – but for every second there, an hour would pass here. As long as you're moving consistently between worlds, the variation should more or less even itself, as some worlds would also have a one millisecond per second rule. However, if you're on a single world for a substantial amount of time, it's entirely possible you'll return here to find Hikari 24 while you're still 14 – or, on the other hand, that Ruslan only aged a day and you're 27. It's possible someone will die and the message will only reach you ten years after the funeral. These are all things you must be willing to accept if you're to travel with us."

Weary from all her talking, she sits back in her seat. The whole room has an air of finality, like the decision has been long since decided – from as far back as is possible, from back when the gods first imagined their worlds. Daichi hesitates for only one long moment before he starts to speak. "I – "

"Don't go," Hikari whispers, and the tension shatters like glass.

Daichi turns to stare at his little sister. Dimly, Manami realizes it's the first time she's ever heard the younger girl talk. It's almost childlike.

And it hurts.

"Hikari," Daichi begins, but she stops him when she grabs his hand, her own fingers trembling under the weight of her thoughts.

"Don't go," she repeats, voice only a whisper, and everyone catches the real meaning – don't go _without me_.

Gently – slowly – Daichi extracts his hand, takes a deep breath, and turns to face Manami.

"I accept everything you've told me," he says, purposely refusing to look at his sister, "and I'm going with you."

The entire room seems to let out a breath. Hikari's gaze falls to her hands, lapsing easily into the cowardly quiet she'd managed before. Manami wants to cry for the girl, wants to reach out and take her hand because she knows, she understands.

But she can't. She can only nod. "If that's your decision." She glances at Abner. "You two will be alright with this?"

Abner nods, managing a toothy smile. "Daichi can handle himself," he says, slapping his grandson on the back. Daichi winces beneath the excited smile developing on his face. "Jus' give us a couple minutes alone to say goodbye, alright?"

"Of course," Kalani says. Manami stands at some sort of invisible signal she gets from him and they leave, casting Daichi furtive glances over their shoulders – just to make sure he's okay with this, since they'll be a team now. He nods them out.

"We should gather supplies while we're out," Manami says. "Maybe we can find Daichi some _practical_ clothing."

Kalani's lips twitch up on one side. "I think there's a shop down the street," he says instead. "There were some bottles in the window labeled potions. You want to explain what those are to me or what?"

"Potions are a series of herbs infused with a very specific magic…" she begins lecturing, and she completely misses the happy smile that he finds when they walk down the street.

+x+

**DESTINY ISLANDS**

In a room made of velvet on the top floor of a house, two figures converse in quiet tones.

"So the possession was a failure," the black-haired man sighs. He's not used to this world – Destined Islands, isn't it? Something along those lines – and he's sweaty from the layers he has on. He should've been _told _about the heat here, dammit. It doesn't help that he burns instead of tans; he can already feel the telltale heat of a sunburn on his cheeks when he touches his fingers to it. He's an omnipotent being of pure destruction. He shouldn't _have_ to worry about his stupid vessel getting a little heatstroke. "Why?"

"His companion would have recognized me," the woman sighs. In contrast to the pale skin of the man next to her, she's clearly Native – impossible to pinpoint the exact heritage unless you know it in advance, unless you see the plaque inscribed with Navajo words at the end of her bed. She's dressed properly, too, shorts and a tank top detracting considerably from her imposing appearance but allowing her vessel some necessary breathing room. "I was so close! I've spent so long training the boy to be my body, and now…"

"Can't you just try again?" the man frowns, eyebrows knit together.

She rolls her eyes. "His magic is too strong. It would recognize my origin and repel me before I could make it in."

There's a pause. The man snorts. "He has a magical immune system?"

She scowls at him and his laughter immediately dies. Her face falls lax once more and she frowns down at her body again through beautiful brown eyes. "It's no use," she mutters. "I'll just have to use one of his siblings. Nascha just can't handle my soul anymore." She gestures idly to her stomach, where – beneath the shirt – long, angry burns litter the woman's side. Faint markings have begun to appear on her face, too.

The vessel is wearing out. If she doesn't leave it now, she'll be trapped in a void until someone willing to help her comes along – and who knows how long that would take.

"It's lucky the woman sired so many children," the man comments idly, scratching at the bridge of his nose. "You've got your pick of vessels."

"Not luck," she says, slightly distracted. "Strategy."

"You – " He pauses to make a vague, inhuman noise. "You were in her body when she was having the kids?"

She snorts. "Of course. She was only vulnerable once, at her first Blessingway. I would've never gotten the chance to take over her again – and without a body the children would recognize, there'd be no way I could convince them to let me in." She shakes her head, bemused. "No, I've been here since before the eldest."

He blinks. "So the father…you, what, eliminated him?"

"No, of course not. He just left." Seeing the look on his face, she says, "Not everyone can explain their actions away by magical influence. Some people are just naturally deadbeats – and Niyol Lagai was one of them." She stands, stretches. "Alright. I'm going to go claim my next vessel."

"You aren't going to appraise which one is best?" Her companion asks, mystified.

"Of course not. I raised these children. I already know of their magical potential." She smiles grimly. "And as it so happens, it goes by age."

For the first time in what feels like forever, she leaves the room, travelling down the hallway before she finds herself just outside a door. Even the outside of the child's room is littered with posters, hallmarks of expression that most could never understand.

Casually, with all the time in the world, the woman drags a Keyblade out of thin air. If this is going to work, she has some memories to wipe.

After a long moment where the face of the forgotten child is superimposed on the end of her Keyblade, she smiles and allows the weapon to disappear from her grip, fading into an imaginary darkness. Now, just one thing to take care of: the possession itself.

She knocks on the door. A voice calls "Don't come in!" She opens it anyway, slow, careful. Their hair is pulled up casually underneath a hat; he grunts angrily at the screen, in the middle of some sort of video game that she doesn't entirely understand.

Apparently he hears her walk inside and shut the door behind her, because he spins around in his chair, grumbling "I _said_ – " and then coming to a full stop when he takes her in, eyes widening slowly.

She knows she rarely comes out of her room. It had been a purposeful move – shock them into submission when she actually needs them, but keep them carefully under her thumb before then, leading from afar, a silent figure for them to look up to for all the wrong reasons.

"Jovany, sweetheart," Kalani's mother whispers with all the faux concern in the world, "we need to have a talk."

+x+

You stare at your screen for a long moment.

_"No_," you finally manage, voice strangled. You're just getting used to the fighting system again! You have to…surely you can just…

_One more world_, you had told yourself, and you groan, rubbing your eyes.

"Fine," you mutter petulantly, throwing your game controller on the floor before feeling a little bad and rubbing the side of it in apology. Frowning unhappily, you yank the cord out of where it connects; the screen dies from where you'd just saved, finally prepared to start in on some Disney worlds, if the "NEW GUMMI PIECE INSTALLED: NEW WORLDS AVAILABLE" message that pervaded your save screen was any indication.

A few hours. Eat dinner with your mother. And then…

You're gonna finish this whole game _all at once_.

You grab your car keys and your license as you walk out the door – and though you don't notice it, the top is labeled with PLAYER ONE instead of your name.

You are PLAYER ONE, and you are about to have one hell of a week.

+x+

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

(WARNING THIS GETS REALLY LONG SRRY)

changed the description because i came to recognize that quotes for summaries are almost as tacky as 'i suck at summaries' in summaries. almost.

since nobody did anything, with the first chapter, im just gonna assume nobodys ever gonna read this, because if you cant make it through the first chapter you sure as _hell_ cant make it through multiple chapters. which is totally fine, ofc. this is a long fic.

so assuming nobody reads this, all A/Ns after this oneare hereby unofficially addressed to my future self.

that being said, there are a few things to note while i'm still talking to a nonexistent audience.

first and foremost: its important to recognize that im a white cis person. were i writing only white cis people this would not be a problem, but none of the 3 "main" characters are white and only 2 of them are cis. as a white cis person, _i probably have a lot of subconscious racism/transphobia that's been forced upon me via society and media_. ive done my best to make this story as accepting as i can, but it's entirely possible that i'm doing something oppressive without even realizing it. fanfiction is great because if somebody notices this and tells me about it, i can go back and change the parts that are offensive without any huge repercussions. so if you (the reader, hypothetically) find something that you feel is oppressive, _PLEASE do not hesitate to tell me_. not only will i be able to fix it, ill also be able to avoid doing it in the future.

(note that that warning is for _any_ form of oppression. manami has autism [this will be explicitly stated later], and i feel i am capable of writing it because my older sister and many of her friends have it, so i have a lot of personal experience. that _doesnt mean_ its impossible for me to be ableist. its the same with classism, homophobia - if you feel _literally anything_ is oppressive or inaccurate, please tell me.)

second: there's a few things ive done in this story for thematic reasons that may confuse you. for example, the way i'm not describing battles. this is much the same as the whole PLAYER ONE debacle - i want this story to feel like a continuation of kh, like in actual video game. battles in the game would be unique to each person, so i dont describe, because theyd be different for your PLAYER ONE than they would be for my PLAYER ONE. a few things related to this idea and others crop up throughout the story, so if you dont fully understand the reason im leaving something out, then this is probably it.

third: as far as tropes go, im not mentioning all of them that appear. that would be a hell of a lot of tropes. im only listing the ones that are found in the original kh game, and ill only mention them once - that is, if they appear once in one chapter and once in another, i wont list it again.

so, tropes in this chapter (note: its assumed that fighting chernabog in this story is nearly the same as fighting chernabog in the original game, just with less hp):

Adaptation Dye Job; Always Night; Breath Weapon; Don't Explain the Joke; Inn Between the Worlds; La Résistance; Satan; Stationary Boss; Take Your Time; ¡Three Amigos!; Two Guys and a Girl; Universal Driver's License (averted); Videogame Settings: First Town; and Videogame Settings: Dungeon Town


End file.
